Diary of a Madman: Memoirs of a Nukenin
by Bloodreaver Alpha
Summary: Uchiha Itachi.Missing Nin, Akatsuki member, mass murderer.He has power, and a lot of it.But after an encounter with the Kyuubi Jinchuuriki, he begins to wonder what the point of it all is.What good is power if you've no good reason to use it? NaruxYugito
1. Act I Overture: Revelations

Diary of a Madman:

Memoirs of a Missing-Nin

By Uchiha Itachi

**Prologue**

I suspect that by the time you are reading this, I will be long dead, and for all I know, I will be the last person to read this. I certainly have no desire for immortality, unlike Orochimaru. Life is boring enough already without the tedium of eternity weighing on one's shoulders. As it stands, I will face death and embrace it gladly, when it finally comes to claim me.

But I'll fight like hell to stay alive until that time, because boring or not, my life is my own - I'll not give it up to any damned fool who has the audacity to ask for it. They're all welcome to try, though.

Anyways, let me begin by saying, to whomever comes across this journal...PUBLISH THIS. You'll find all the necessary funds already accrued and allocated in General Account #**[account number removed - editor]**; all it requires is that you hand this diary over to Takenori Publishing and to tell them to look in said account. Don't bother trying to remove the money for your own use - only four individuals know how to do so successfully, and they won't tell.

I can only make assumptions about my eventual death, as I am, at the time of this writing, obviously very much alive. I'm therefore going to assume that, like most ninjas, missing or non, I died in a titanic battle, before which I hopefully had wild marathon sex with at least four very attractive women.

Frankly, to go out in any other manner would be frightfully depressing.

Regarding the primary source of my infamy, the 'Uchiha Massacre' as it's commonly known, I will make absolutely no statements about it with regards to my reasons. My reasons are my own, and I considered them sufficient in my own mind to carry out the wholesale slaughter of nearly all my Clan. I will acknowledge that this action is why most people would consider me mad at the very least, and completely evil at worst. I'm not sure if I disagree with either point, by the way.

I will, at a later point, give explanation as to why I spared my younger brother Sasuke from death, and why I left Konoha proper.

Finally, if this work seems to be unfinished, I apologize most sincerely for my untimely death.

_October 19, 6__th__ Year of Godaime Hokage, 377 CE (common era)_

_Uchiha Itachi_

**Chapter I**

Today is my twenty-fifth birthday. Oddly enough, I feel old. After a second's contemplation, I realize that I'm barely a year away from middle age (relative to the average shinobi, which I am not). Kisame gives me a strange look when I voice this thought.

It is only hours later that I realize that he's almost twice my age. Come to think of it, I haven't the faintest idea of when his birthday is.

...Not like I'd get him a present.

There isn't much in way of a celebration, as we're deep in the middle of nowhere. We just came back from a rather unsuccessful attempt on the Kyuubi Jinchuuriki, and Kisame is currently wrapping bandages around his chest. As much as the child annoys me, Uzumaki Naruto's growth from a barely genin-level laughingstock to an eminently competent (although no less loud) jounin in a few short years is impressive. He's still weaker than either Kisame or myself, but Jiraiya definitely tips the balance in their favor.

If he keeps up this obscene pace, Uzumaki will be beyond the abilities of Kisame and I in two more years. I would put his present talents just below those of Orochimaru. And if he should go berserk...well, it wouldn't be pretty.

I look up at the sky; there aren't any clouds. I'm beginning to wonder, sometimes, whether actually capturing the Kyuubi's gaoler is actually feasible anymore. The Leader seems to think it is, although I had (and still have) serious concerns about this so-called 'plan' of his regarding the tailed beasts.

Shukaku, the Ichibi, was a pain, and he was the weakest of the tailed beasts (although his container used him more effectively than I'd expected). Come to think of it, his capture was immensely difficult; we succeeded in extracting the one-tails, but at the cost of a valuable member. And to top it off, the Kazekage was somehow brought back to life. That could cause problems; Gaara was (and still is, I understand) a brilliant fighter.

I'm beginning to feel tired of it all, though. 'It all' referring, of course, to the life of a shinobi. I shouldn't really be surprised; when I was in the Konoha ANBU, we were warned about burnouts. I confess that I didn't really take it seriously, as at the time everything was very new and exciting to me. It was...fun. Different.

But, like any profession, I'm beginning to grow weary of the relative monotony. Granted, no two encounters are ever alike, but even this high-risk live-by-the-seat-of-my-pants lifestyle boils down to a very basic formula: Kill or be killed.

The Hidden Villages try to disguise this, of course. And why shouldn't they? Shinobi must be trained from childhood, and no child wants (nor is really able) to make such a grim, black-and-white decision. I am considered a once-in-a-lifetime prodigy, a genius among genii, and I would not have been able to stomach that option.

And so, the Villages lie. They, like the shinobi they raise and employ, hide the truth beneath a glamour. When they recruit, tales of daring exploits are what they divulge. Feats of strength, marvels of the other lands. 'Glory', in particular, is a rather popular term that is thrown about. Glory for self. Glory for family. Glory for the Village. They fill the heads of the young with thrilling epics, of battles won and victories tallied, and even as the children cheer, they crush down the impulse to blurt out the truth.

The truth, of course, being the other side of the coin. Of the ruthless assassinations of entire clans. Of the brutal deaths of comrades. Of the child who accidentally saw them kill, and who was then eternally silenced for the sake of secrecy.

When put like that, I suppose anyone would be depressed.

Well, save for the Uzumaki brat. I have to say, I've never met a cheerier person than Uzumaki Naruto. Heavens help me, but I actually sort of like the little punk. It takes a lot of guts to face the hazards he does with a smile. And it's infectious; it's infuriatingly difficult to fight down a grin of my own even when I'm trying my damndest to capture the boy.

Which, I have to admit, is rather bizarre, seeing as Akatsuki aims to kill him.

Besides, I _do _have something of a reputation to maintain, and being a cold-blooded pretty-boy is one key facet of said reputation. After all, it simply wouldn't do to start chuckling in the middle of a life-or-death battle.

...or would it? Hmm. Psychological warfare is an integral part of shinobi battles, and I'm certainly considered stolid enough that to break out in spontaneous and unwarranted laughter would be...unsettling.

I casually put the idea before Kisame. His response, like Kisame himself, is blunt and decidedly unsubtle.

"You are one fuckin' weird kid, Itachi."

That, in a nutshell, is Hoshigaki Kisame. Subtlety, diplomacy, tact...all are completely beyond the scope of his ability. Of course, it's something of an exercise in futility to strive for subtlety when one is over six feet, blue, and carrying a giant sword. He is, however, what one could consider a 'friend', if I felt comfortable enough to use the term. I'm admittedly far too paranoid for that, though. He finishes wrapping his chest and begins to prepare supper, a fact that I take instant and pleasant note of.

Kisame is not perfect; far from it, in fact. He has his foibles and his faults. But let me make one thing _eminently_ clear: Whatever else his failings, Kisame is a _phenomenal _chef. Where and how he came by his ability, I don't know, but it makes little difference. All I really care about is that he has it.

It is over one of his excellent meals (gyouza, today) that I begin to wonder about the path I've taken in life.

I have precious few, if any, real regrets. I do not regard the murder of my clan as something altogether upsetting, although I _do_ miss my mother. I do not regret the murder of Shishui, my best friend. He was the sole reason I was able to attain the Mangekyou, after all. Nor do I regret my collusion with the man known to Akatsuki as 'Tobi', although I know that his real identity...well, that will come later.

No, mine is not a life full of regrets. A shinobi can have no regrets. But curiosity, oh yes...

...eh? Wait a minute.

I frown. I have always done what I felt like doing. I felt like killing the Uchiha. I felt like joining Akatsuki. I felt like cutting off Orochimaru's hand. By all accounts, I should be satisfied with my life. Satisfaction implies that I feel that I'm doing the right thing. Satisfaction implies that I should not be 'curious' about other options. For does not the longing for another way imply..._dis_satisfaction?

The mere fact that I am curious about an alternative route is..._disturbing _to me.

Life, in my view, is a series of steps, some influenced by logic, others by emotion. I have largely eschewed the latter, as it has little place in the role of battle. Playing slave to your emotions will get you killed, and I'm not terribly fond of death. But I am not an emotionless man. Cold? Yes, I will admit as much, although the term 'apathetic' is probably more accurate. My tight hold on my emotions has kept me alive; it has made me strong.

_But for what purpose_, my mind snaps belligerently. And I realize that I have no answer.

What could I say? To become strong for the sake of being strong? Pointless. I have no desire to lord my accomplishments over those who are less able than I. I have never cared for boasters, and I'll be damned if I become one myself. To protect someone? I have no-one whom I care for that deeply. I am somewhat fond of Kisame, true, but he can take care of himself quite ably. To gain revenge? No-one who has wronged me is still alive, and these were precious few, in any case.

Has it all been useless?

I chew a dumpling thoughtfully for several minutes without swallowing, contemplating my next course of action. Kisame is aware of this. The man is extraordinarily observant for one so headstrong.

"Kisame."

"Somethin' on your mind?" He thoughtfully feeds some small branches onto the fire. This is for my benefit; my body is not capable of handling the same kind of conditions as his, and it has been growing rapidly cooler as winter approaches. Being a former Mist-Nin means growing up in perpetually chilly weather, so he has something of an advantage over me in this area.

"You could say that," I mutter around a mouthful of pork. I swallow and put my plate aside. This is a difficult thing to do, and Kisame arches one eyebrow in surprise. "Kisame," I begin, "I want you to do me a favor for a few minutes." At his wordless assent, I continue. "I want you to completely forget about Akatsuki, Pein-sama, and the Bijuu Plan. _Briefly_," I clarify hastily, as it's rather obvious that I've startled him badly.

He blows out a mouthful of air. "Shit, this is a big one, isn't it?" He asks, rubbing the back of his head uneasily.

"Un." There is silence for a few minutes, then he relaxes. "Okay," he says. "Shoot."

I take some time to collect my thoughts; a pointless exercise, as I've done so several times in the last half-hour. "What if," I say slowly, "Just _what if_, I was to, say, have doubts about this plan of Pein-sama's? What if I said that I'm having trouble _caring_ about his goal?" My partner does not react; this is good, as I'm not finished. "What if I wanted to leave Akatsuki behind?" There; a small twitch. Now for the big one, and I lean in closer to convey the significance of my last statement. "What if I wanted to quit being a ninja?"

"Shee-yit," Kisame hisses in surprise. He glances at me in morbid amusement. "You certainly don't ask simple questions, do you?" He rubs his chin for several minutes, uttering various curse words under his breath as he ponders my questions. He gets to his feet and starts pacing. I've unsettled him; a rare accomplishment, but right now I don't feel like patting myself on the back. Approximately five minutes go by before he speaks.

"Well, first off," he begins slowly, "I have to say that you're not the only one with doubts about the Plan, although I'd have to know the exact reasoning behind your disagreement before I could say anything further." I nodded; this was not unexpected. "And I suppose that also covers your apathy towards the goal itself. As for leaving the organization..." he blows out a long breath. "I've thought about it; who hasn't, really? Well," he amended, "maybe not Konan."

We both chuckle. Konan will follow Pein wherever he goes, without question and without reservation. She is, after all, his lover.

Kisame quickly sobers. "The problem with leaving," he warns, "is that once you're in, you already know too much. Akatsuki is not likely to let something like that happen peacefully. And there's no way in hell you can win against Pein-sama. You're signing your own death warrant."

"This is a hypothetical question," I remind him. I'm not fooling him, and we both know it.

Technically, though, I am not lying. I haven't truly made up my mind whether or not to leave Akatsuki. I may have reservations about certain aspects of the organization, but it is what passes for 'home'.

Home. It is only now, sitting here in the middle of nowhere with the one person I truly trust, that I realize what a powerful concept that is. In Konohagakure, I never felt at home. The Uchiha compound was a prison, and I a prisoner under the thumb of my domineering father. I can honestly say that I never felt any sort of familial bond with Uchiha Fugaku. There was respect, but only the kind of respect you give to a worthy adversary.

"Right, hypothetical," he says dryly. "Since you're 'hypothetically' considering leaving the organization, it makes me 'hypothetically' question why you joined in the first place."

"I was a missing-nin," I say, not wanting to bring up the involvement of 'Tobi' in my clan's massacre. "I was strong. Where else could I go?"

"Bullshit," my partner says bluntly. "Try again. Why did you join?"

I open my mouth; to say what, I cannot recall. But nothing comes out. After several minutes, the only thing I can do is shrug.

"I don't know," I admit. "It just seemed like the thing to do at the time."

"Uh-huh. And what; now you're bored with it?" 'Bored'. My eyes widened as I mentally digested the word. It was shockingly accurate.

"Yes. I mean...I'm bored. Bored. Huh." I roll the word around in my mouth. "I'm _bored_." I look at the former Mist-Nin in surprise. "I'm bored of fighting. I'm bored of orders. I'm bored of being a ninja." I shrug again. "I...just don't care any more."

Kisame sighs and sits down again. "Kid, I'm gonna tell you somethin', and I'm pretty sure you're not gonna like it."

I nod my head, indicating that he should go on. He leans closer, and unconsciously, I do the same.

"GROW UP!" He bellows suddenly. With an undignified squawk, I tumble backwards, my head ringing. Kisame looms over me, his face set in an impressive scowl as he bares the pointed teeth that resemble his namesake. "Play time's over, brat," he snaps. "You think being a ninja is about 'fun'? Fuck that - it's a miserable, dirty, rotten job, and we're the dumb fucks that signed up to do it in the first place! It's not about what you want to do, it's about what you're told to do. You may be strong, but you're an idiot if you don't realize that!"

"I know that already," I reply irritably, flipping to my feet. I dust myself off. "But the benefits of such an occupation are no longer sufficient. If there's no interest, then there's no point in continuing, is there?"

Kisame matches my glare for several tense minutes, and then sighs. "No, I suppose not," he agrees. "You'll just get killed if you don't care. But you're seriously gonna give up being a ninja?"

"Probably not entirely," I admit wryly. "But I just want to live my life undisturbed." _That_ is about as close to pure truth as I will ever admit out loud; no matter where I've been, there have been far too many people about. Noise, noise, noise is all I ever find, and I've grown sick of it. Even the few people like Kisame who's company I enjoy aren't enough to make it worthwhile.

"So," he muses, scratching his chin, "clearly being 'S-Class Missing-Nin Uchiha Itachi, murderer of his whole clan' isn't cuttin' it for you. Then what are you looking for" - and here he makes a vague sweeping gesture towards the forest around us - "out there?"

"...I don't know," I say quietly. I look up at the sky; the stars are out. "Peace, maybe? Quiet, definitely. But I'm tired of being 'S-Class Missing-Nin Uchiha Itachi, murderer of his whole clan'," I say, mocking his tone. He grins toothily. "I just want to be left alone."

Kisame's grin widens. I suppose it would be disturbing to anyone else. "Fucking anti-social misanthrope."

"Walking Sushi bar reject," I retort. We grin at each other, our good moods restored.

"You know I can't just _let_ you leave," he points out cheerfully. "Wouldn't reflect well on me." I nod.

"I know. If I were you, I wouldn't let me just walk away, either. But right now, I'm tired and I want to sleep."

"Yeah," Kisame agrees, "me too. Listening to you angst away is exhausting." I scoff and prepare my bed for the night. "Tomorrow at first light?" he asks.

"Hell, no," I snort derisively, folding my cloak. "I want at least one more of your meals before I go!"

He guffaws and tosses a few logs on the fire before settling into his sleeping bag. We are silent for several minutes. As my eyes grow heavy, I hear Kisame speak.

"You know I'm not gonna take it easy on you."

"Wouldn't want it any other way."

A small snort. "I'll bet I get paired with that Tobi guy. Retard reminds me of Uzumaki; half expect to hear him end every sentence with 'dattebayo'." I laugh softly and close my eyes.

As I listen to the soft sounds of night, I mentally compose a letter to Sasuke.

'Sasuke, give up on your ambition to kill me. I won't let it happen, and the gap between us it too great. I no longer care about what's happened between the two of us, and I'm not going to explain why I did what I did. You wouldn't understand it, and you wouldn't like it if you did. Suffice to say that it is, for me, irrelevant. It's likely you will never see me again - I certainly won't seek you out.

'My ambitions have changed dramatically recently, and they no longer include anything that you would understand. You could say that Akatsuki was just a stepping stone in the river of Life. I've moved on; you should too. I'm not asking for you to forget, and I don't mean forgiveness, either. But you need to change.

'I've recently asked myself why I desired power, and I realized that I have no good answer. Your response to the same question is likely filled with invectives and death wishes towards myself. That's okay; I wouldn't expect you to feel any other way considering the circumstances. But now I've removed myself from the game; I won't play anymore. So you need to change your reasoning, if not your goals.

'Sasuke, for once in my life I will act like the older brother you believed that you had. The Uchiha were once a mighty people, but their numbers have dwindled for obvious reasons. I know I cannot stop you from trying to kill me, but as I've no interest in procreation, please consider that the clan is resting on the edge of a knife. Instead of spending all your time hunting me down, rebuild the clan. You're the only one who can. There's no telling when you might fall astray of a stronger ninja, and it would be a shame to see the Uchiha vanish forever, so find an acceptable woman or three and impregnate them.

'Farewell, little brother, and take care. For the first time in my life, I wish you the best.'

'Itachi'

**Just a drabble that popped into my head and grew. I like to think that this is a unique idea.**


	2. Chapter 2: Decisions

**Chapter II**

I woke to the smell of onions.

I love onions. I could eat them raw, sautéed, smoked, grilled...any way, at any time. Kisame knows this. That particular vegetable, though, is rare and expensive in most of the Elemental Countries, but he's always made sure to pack a few when we are sent out.

For him to be cooking onions for breakfast today, a day when I (ostensibly) would leave for good, was a subtle though unmistakable effort on his part to let me know that he would miss me. I felt a guilty pang, but quickly squashed it; I couldn't afford to be sentimental.

Let me explain the relationship Kisame and I have. We were paired together in Akatsuki after the 'disappearance' of Kisame's original partner, Hadekuma. Well, half of him disappeared, anyhow. His torso and head were rather easy to find.

From what I hear, it was quite difficult to get the bloodstains out of the ceiling.

Kisame's ninjutsu are water oriented, as befitting a former Mist-nin; mine are fire-based. He is loud and abrasive; I tend to be fairly understated in my mannerisms.

We didn't get along at first. At _all_. In fact, I can still vividly recall a point early on where something was said, someone snapped, and Kisame and I were going at it, both intent on the kill. Pein was most displeased; both Kisame and I were lucky to walk after his discipline.

This animosity was primarily due to an encounter in my early ANBU days in which Kisame made a mockery of my entire squad, humiliating us. Us! We were ANBU, and Konoha ANBU at that! We were the best of the best, and from the strongest country, too! Out of fourteen ANBU, only two were left alive; myself and my captain. I recall being shocked that a single missing-nin could be so impossibly strong.

In a bizarre, half-handed sort of way, you could say that Kisame was a part of why I considered being a nukenin in the first place. For it was this disillusionment of my superiority that first caused traitorous thoughts to cross my mind.

Well, I suppose that I should quantify that statement; it was a _very_ small reason. The majority of blame rests hand-in-hand with the infamous 'Uchiha Massacre', which I will not now nor ever go into detail about. Suffice to say that things aren't quite as they seem...

I rolled out of my sleeping bag, used a few hygienic ninjutsu to clean my clothing and body, and began to pack up my few meager belongings. Breakfast was delicious, but very quiet.

"So..." I said, as I stood across the clearing from my soon-to-be-ex-partner. I had thought myself relatively well-prepared for this parting of ways, but I was struck with a sudden and profound sadness, the likes of which I had not felt in years.

"Yup." For his part, my traveling companion of the past several years looked remarkably unaffected. I smiled to myself. The bastard.

Kisame hefted Samehada in his broad hands and smirked.

"All things considered, kid, it's been a blast. Let's make this a good one." He hawked and spat off to the side. "Betcha they pair me with that dipshit in the mask."

I chuckled and closed my eyes. "For the record, Kisame," I said softly, "I'm sorry about this."

"What, leaving?" He gave a snort. "You do what you gotta do."

I opened my eyes.

"No, not that. _Tsukiyomi!_"

* * *

As this is for posterity, I really _did _feel like a heel for using Tsukiyomi on Kisame. I silently prayed for his forgiveness as I bounded through the trees at top speed, heading west. It was a total cheap-shot, and a warrior of his caliber deserved far better than a doujutsu sucker-punch.

But Akatsuki wouldn't be able to blame him for losing me – the organization was well aware of my minimalist 'strike fast, strike hard' battle philosophy, and by essentially ambushing my supposedly unsuspecting ex-partner, I would absolve him of all responsibility in my betrayal.

Besides, I couldn't afford to take any wounds that would slow me down. Moreso now than ever before, I was a wanted man, only this time, I had no allies. I was alone.

It's a strangely depressing idea. For the last several years, I have been part of a greater whole, surrounded and buffered by allies, if not exactly comrades. I have bled with others, pissed with others, eaten, drunk, and slept in the company of a familiar handful of faces...and now I am cut off from companionship once more.

For thirty-six hours, I travel at top speed, passing from Rain Country into Rice and then Stone. My scratched hitai-ate is laid to rest at the bottom of a very deep pool somewhere on the border between the two, where I imagine that it will rot and rust away into nothing in relative peace. My Akatsuki cloak is the unfortunate recipient of a Katon jutsu, the ashes of which are consumed with disgust and much wincing. It tastes awful, but it is, after all, a foolproof method of erasing something from existence, providing you do not leave so much as a single ash behind.

I am not so careless. Paranoia has served me well in this instance – I must erase all traces of ever having existed. It is imperative that Uchiha Itachi, by any and all means, disappears forever from the world.

In order to live, I must die. A curious paradox made doubly ironic by the desires of my little brother, Uchiha Sasuke. I can freely say that I am...disappointed in him. Perhaps I might even go so far as to say I'm upset with his decision to abandon Konoha. And for what? Tutelage under a strong master for the purpose of killing me I could understand, if not exactly condone. Disloyalty is a disgusting character flaw, as though I am in a position to cast such a stone. But somewhat understandable, under the circumstances. Uzumaki Naruto was already under the guidance of Jiraiya, and Tsunade hadn't yet decided to take anyone, let alone the Haruno girl, as an apprentice yet. No-one else of their caliber remained inside the walls of Konohagakure, so it makes a twisted sort of sense for him to seek power elsewhere.

But to place himself in the thrall of Orochimaru, my defeated foe? Madness! It is this revelation that makes me lose all hope for Sasuke. I had hoped that hatred would have given him a focus, sharpened him as iron sharpens iron into a blade. But Sasuke has let his hate grind away for far too long, and it has damaged his edge irreparably.

Orochimaru is no weakling; that he could fight on even ground with the revered 'Professor', Sarutobi the Sandaime Hokage, is evidence of such. But his claims of superiority are nothing but idle boasts; not counting myself and the Akatsuki, I know of at least fifteen ninja who could crush the Snake Sannin with little difficulty.

I shake my head; there is no hope for the Uchiha clan now. Sasuke's progeny, if any, would be tainted by their father's failures, and the stench of Orochimaru would linger over them _ad aeturnum. _That he would turn to one who could never defeat me _in order_ to defeat me is illogical.

The thought of offspring turns my mind to my former lover/near-fiancée from when I was a Leaf-nin. Ironic that Mitarashi Anko was also afflicted by Orochimaru – she, in sharp contrast to Sasuke, threw off his yoke and remains to this day a loyal soldier of the Leaf.

She is one of perhaps three people whose company I truly miss. I understand that she is now sleeping with Umino Iruka, one of the instructors from the Konoha Academy. Good for her; I'm truly happy that she's moved on. And I can't say that I didn't expect is, after all, the only other living member of Orochimaru's first and only genin team.

I shake my head; nostalgia is not something I typically indulge myself in. On the border of Stone, my danger sense goes off, and I stop in a clearing not a mile from Yuki no Kuni. Three shapes blur into existence around me.

To my relief, they aren't Hunter-nin; not that those would be any trouble, but Jounin border guards are infinitely less time-consuming, should things come to a violent head.

The middle-aged woman with short gray hair scowls at me. Typical Iwa-nins; so serious. "State your name, Country of Origin, and Purpose."

I briefly consider just cutting the three down and continuing, but discard the idea almost immediately. That would be a very Itachi-ish thing to do, and Itachi must cease to exist.

"Matsumoto Tatewaki," I lie, with artful cheerfulness as I hand over excellently forged papers stating exactly thus, "but most people call me 'Tachi'. Born in Fire Country, and I'm passing through." I pause just long enough to make my next statement seem unplanned. "I'm just trying to find a place to settle down and all." I grin broadly, and a very faint sprinkling of red suffuses the woman's cheeks. This pleased me; looks like I've still got it. "So, yeah, technically we'd be enemies, except I'm not an active Nin anymore, and frankly I couldn't care less. Kinda nice to not have to worry about political situations when you're traveling, huh?"

One of the men, a short, thin bearded ninja with a kodachi at his side narrows his eyes as the woman examines the forgeries. "Moving, huh? Where are your effects, Matsumoto-san?"

I cock my head and smirk condescendingly at him as I pull out a large scroll. "Hello? Ever heard of storage seals. Damned useful things, I think." And that's not even really a lie. The scroll does contain everything I own; that 'everything I own' is nothing but money and weaponry never comes up.

The woman regains control, waving her subordinate off sharply. "What rank, and why did you leave the military?"

I shrugged and scratched my cheek. "I was a Special Jounin. And frankly, I got tired of the whole 'kill or be killed' thing." I ducked my head in simulated embarrassment. "Lost a couple of girlfriends because I didn't spend enough time with 'em, and when this tour was up, I decided not to renew." The other Jounin, a tall clean-shaven man with a large stomach, nods understandingly.

"Then why did you leave Konoha?" I'll give her credit; she was doing her job and doing it well.

I looked her straight in the eye, projecting an aura of honesty and slight but resigned annoyance. "Because," I explained with a hint of irritation creeping into my tone, "my _ex-fiancée_ started sleeping with my best friend, and I got sick of hearing about it from everyone and their grandmother. Is that what you want to hear?"

All of this was, of course, a complete lie. But a lie with tidbits of absolute truth interjected here and there, coupled with some superb acting skills. I grin broadly for a second time. I have actually based my persona's attitude after the Uzumaki brat's.

The bearded ninja winces. "Sorry," he says honestly. I wave it off.

"Not your fault; don't apologize. Is this all, Jounin-san? Or may I be on my way?" I asked, not really caring about the answer. My persona, however, was that of a pleasant, personable, above-average ninja with a slight bent towards the flamboyant. I actually put forth special effort to mimic some of the physical mannerisms of Uzumaki Naruto, on whom my current identity was slightly based.

The woman pursed her lips. "I don't like you Leaf-nins," she stated bluntly, "and in all honesty, I'd rather see one of you bastards dead than to pass through my neck of the woods, active or not. And after what your Yondaime did to my country, I think I'm justified. Count yourself fortunate, Matsumoto-san, that I am law-abiding." She waved her hand at me, motioning for me to leave. "You may go."

I mentally rolled my eyes. _'Count yourself fortunate'_, I mocked internally. I could tear these three apart in less time than it would take to relieve myself. They didn't need to know that, though. I nodded politely. "Thank you, and I appreciate your honesty, Jounin-san. And I mean no disrespect, but may I give you a word of advice?" A sharp nod coupled with a stern gaze demanded that I make haste. I smirked internally at her imagined superiority. "We were at war, Jounin-san, and our Hokage did what he felt was necessary to preserve the lives of our people. War is a terrible thing, one that makes beasts out of good men. But living in the past means you can't live in the present. By all means, mourn your lost countrymen, but don't waste your life trying to get revenge on a man who's already dead."

Rather profound if I say so myself, even if I didn't believe a word of it. But it was _exactly_ that kind of optimistic claptrap that Uzumaki would spew in this sort of situation.

* * *

Tamura Hinote and her subordinates watched the Leaf-nin pass into Yuki no Kuni. Several minutes after he had disappeared, Hayabusa Gero hawked and spat off to the side. "What a pretentious ass," he muttered sullenly, scratching his beard. 'Living in the past means you can't live in the present'," he mocked. "Sentimental nonsense."

"Nn," his male team-mate concurred . "How they produced a ninja like the Yellow Flash with such a philosophy eludes me. That guy looked kinda familiar, though I haven't heard that name before..."

"Enough," Hinote ordered sternly. "Back to patrols!" As they leapt through the trees, she frowned slightly.

_Uchiha Itachi_, she acknowledged silently, _you certainly are an interesting guy..._

_**And so the drabble continues...**_


	3. Chapter 3: Motivations

**Chapter III**

I was _really _starting to regret burning my Akatsuki cloak, no matter how absurdly conspicuous it would have been. Snow county is goddamn _freezing_, even in early August.

"'Uchiha have the will of fire'," I growled, mocking the words of my father. "All well and good, but I'd still give my left nut for a decent jacket." True, I wasn't nearly as bad off as my complaining may have made it seem, but the word 'comfort' was nowhere in my immediate vicinity, unless it was directly proceeded by the phrase 'a temperature so low that there's no possibility of'.

In a word, _unpleasant. _

Little bit of information for the otherwise uniformed – Uchiha don't like cold weather. We like it warm, all-year round. Uchiha are _very_ intolerant of the cold; it's actually part of why we left Kusa no Kuni some one or two hundred years ago.

...well, that and being regarded as an entire clan of low-life jutsu thieves by the whole of that country. Which we were.

I tossed an armload of wood into the center of the pit that I'd made, and forming a half-ram seal, blew out a small but steady stream of liquid fire. _Napaamu no Jutsu_ was probably one of the most feared of Uchiha Katon Jutsu, because instead of being a simple blast of chakra converted into pure fire, it used a mix of Doton- and Mizu-based energies to create a physical base that was very similar to oil. This, in turn, is ignited and shot from the mouth like all Katon jutsu.

Water wouldn't put it out, and trying to brush it off only spread it further. As of this writing, I only know one way to free oneself from the jutsu, and it is rather painful.

Primarily because it involves cutting off the afflicted flesh. It's nasty stuff.

In a highly controlled form, however, it's perfect for lighting a fire. I was just starting to get warm again when I stiffened imperceptibly. With a casual, highly-practiced motion, I slid three kunai out of my sleeve and readied them in my hand.

"...Is there any particular reason you find it necessary to watch me?" I asked, annoyed. There was silence for a few moments before a young woman's voice issued from a tree several meters behind me.

"You're in my country, and rather illegally," the voice pointed out. "How did you know I was here so quickly?"

I smirked very slightly. "You're sloppy. The warming jutsu you've been using has been melting the snow in the tree around you. I heard the sound of light rain hitting the snow on the ground beneath you. Strange, considering the temperature."

"Oh." She was quiet for nearly five minutes. "You're Uchiha Itachi."

I shrugged and tossed more wood on the fire, my back still towards her. "And why would you think that?"

"Because a person matching Itachi's description has been sighted recently in Iwa, and you're not so far from the border. Also, your face and body language are quite distinctive."

"Or I could be a hapless look-alike, or under a Henge," I countered. I could almost _hear_ the woman shrug.

"The first is possible," she allowed, "but highly unlikely, seeing how your mannerisms are rather unique. And as for Henge...well, parading around as a 'kill on sight' S-class nuke-nin is probably not the best way to go unnoticed."

"Hn," I muttered. "It seems that Snow Country still produces excellent ninja."

_Crack_.

The Kage Bunshin in front of the fire disappeared as I lowered the body of the Snow Hunter-nin to the ground. "But inevitably, even the excellent must die at the hands of the legendary," I lectured, although my prey could no longer hear me. Appropriating the Hunter-nin's mask, I slid it over my own face.

I should have known better than to travel without a Genjutsu. Frankly, that I did not was an almost unforgivable lapse into terminal stupidity. One of those Stone-nin must have recognized me and sent word throughout the Elemental Countries. Damn them; now my attempts to travel invisibly were useless. Akatsuki would hear about this soon, if they hadn't already. I quickly stripped the body naked, casting an appraising eye over the dead woman's features. Rather pretty, really. What a shame.

Steeling myself, I also divested myself of my clothing and put on those belonging to the dead woman. I had the courtesy not to leave her corpse naked, though; my garments replaced hers, like a macabre trade.

I have been called many things – effeminate, girly, pretty-boy, and countless variations of the same. I won't deny it – I can easily pass for a woman if need be, if certain attributes are, ah, 'overlooked'. As it stands, my body is slender enough to fit into women's clothing without having them hang awkwardly on my frame...or worse, pinch.

Not only were the women's clothing essential for keeping my movements hidden, but they would also keep me warm in this damned ice-box of a country.

But for now, I had to _move_. While Yuki no Kuni wasn't anywhere near large enough or prestigious enough to have a 'Kage' per se, it was more or less accepted that they didn't have one mainly because they didn't _need_ one. As I said, Yuki-nin may have been lacking numbers-wise, but that gap was easily bridged by their sheer quality. In fact, the Konoha ANBU training regimen borrowed heavily from Snow Country practices.

The girl died quickly because she was caught off guard; it's that simple. Had I been forced to engage in a head-on battle, it would have made things far more difficult. I would still have won, true, but emerging unscathed would have been highly improbable.

Even for one such as me. I quickly kicked snow over my fire, dousing it with a pang of regret. Already I could feel the chill, worming its way through my stolen and gender-inappropriate clothing. Change of plans; instead of heading west, I'm heading north. I need to take care to avoid Ame, though – that's where Akatsuki is.

I suppose now is as good a time as any to explain, for those non-ninja or 'green' ninja reading this, about the so-called 'art' of the kill. Most individuals, whether nin or non, have a prevailing view that a nin kills out of necessity, that 'there is no other way'. It's very easy to view one's village, one's mission, and/or one's Kage as the 'greatest good', and to mentally label all opposition as 'evil', firmly entrenching one's own self on the side of 'good'. 'I'm not an assassin', you think, 'I'm a soldier'. It's not an 'ambush', but rather a 'pre-emptive strike'. Little changes, single degrees of mental separation, and suddenly life as a ninja becomes infinitely far more bearable.

It sounds very nice, too. A tight, neat little package of ideology, wrapped in layers of justification and tied with a ribbon of self-righteousness. A lovely little philosophy, gift-wrapped and sanitized of any and all things morally repugnant.

The plain and simple truth, though, is that this ideal, like almost everything taught by the Hidden Villages, is an outright lie.

It is well within human nature to grasp for any straw, no matter how brittle, that will let us retain our perceived superiority over another; in fact, it's so natural that to do so borders on genetic predisposition. And as ninja, the bridge between the green and the blooded is often the most difficult to cross. The conscious decision to _permanently end _another's existence isn't easy, so it's dressed up, hidden beneath mental and ideological layers – a sugar coating for a most bitter pill. But whatever pretty words one chooses to obscure the truth with, it boils down to this simple, incontrovertible fact:

Ninja kill not because it is 'necessary', but rather because it is 'convenient'.

Someone offends you? Kill them. Someone gets in your way? Kill them. Someone sees something you didn't want them to? Kill them. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill. When all the questions have only one common answer, it makes the test that much easier, doesn't it?

I find truly, disturbingly, almost _insanely_ ironic the words of those who claim to seek or use power to 'protect'. The thought is nice, I guess, but the phrase that runs through my mind _without fail_ when someone claims to cling to such a belief is 'total logic disconnect'.

Weapons, and the powers that wield them, have only one purpose. To kill! A blade is _meant _to slice open veins and bisect organs. A mace is _meant _to break bones and crush skulls. Weapons are _by their very nature _instruments of death! And to be a ninja is to kill. Whether one kills in order to keep another alive or just for the sheer hell of it makes no difference; whatever the means, the ends are all that matter. The means are a multiplicity; they can take any shape, have any interpretation and result in any finite outcome. But the end, for a ninja, is always, _always _death. The incongruity of the concept of 'protective power' is so obvious to me as to be rendered laughable, and that entire _nations_ are capable of this kind of willful self-deception is nothing short of contemptible.

I have no such illusions. I didn't spare the Iwa-nin out of any adherence to some hackneyed moral code; it was convenient to my attempts at traveling 'hidden in plain sight' to do so. And I didn't kill the Yuki-nin out of anger or spite; it merely suited my purposes that she, having both convenient supplies in her inventory and the misfortune to confront me directly, die.

I kill those who would be inconvenient to me if left alive, and I spare those who aren't. There is no 'grand secret', no 'hidden purpose'. Because it makes my life easier by any amount, I kill or don't kill. That's all there is to it. And the villages operate the same way.

Konoha enjoys an overwhelming amount of favor in the non-ninja world, primarily due to the image they project as 'nice guys'. This favor translates directly into preferential treatment when a client considers what country to use for a mission. After all, the Hidden Mist ninja are highly effective. But who wants to deal with a country whose graduation exam consists of killing your best friend? It doesn't take any great amount of brainpower to imagine one of those ninja stabbing you in the back during the mission.

'But the ninja from Konoha aren't like that – they're _nice guys_'. And like that, the decision is made, and the prospective client doesn't even so much as pass through Mist Country on his or her way to Konoha. Money in the bank. But as 'nice' as Konoha seems, they are a village of _ninja_. They accept and commission as many if not more assassinations (both corporal and character) as any other village. Konoha-nin are just as deadly and brutal as Mist-nin. But even the most foul of dishes can be made palatable if you dump enough sugar on it.

I have no qualms with killing. I kill when it pleases me to do so, and when it doesn't, I don't. But there is nothing in the world that annoys me more than a self-righteous, self-serving, sanctimonious zealot who openly considers his methods superior based on mere ideology. And frankly, if something annoys me, it doesn't last for very long.

How convenient. Now, if I can just get out of this damned ice-box of a country...

With a sudden gasp, the 'dead' Snow-nin shot upright. "That arrogant little fuck!" she seethed, rubbing the phantom pain in her neck away. No doubt about it – Uchiha Itachi was _lethal. _She winced; having one's neck broken, regardless of whether or not one could regenerate from such an injury, hurt like _hell_. And she was cold, too.

Looking down at herself, the Snow-nin's eyes widened with rage. "He stole my _clothes_?! That insufferable little bastard – I'll _kill _him!"

**And on and on it goes...**


	4. Chapter 4: Interactions

**Chapter IV**

"Irritating."

"That he would act so impulsively and for such a reason is unexpected. It does not fit within his character."

"Character definition is wholly dependent upon the viewpoint."

"True; however, the fact remains that this marks an unprecedented shift in behavior. He exhibited no such signs when we profiled him for _it_ back then."

"Indeed. It begs the question, then, as to whether this is an unforeseen, incalculable aberration-"

"-or a planned seditious act. Which would be more troubling, I wonder?"

"In any case, the deviation has occurred. It is not irrecoverable, but to repair the damage will set us back some time."

"Time is a luxury that is currently unavailable. Do we know where he is?"

"Last seen entering Snow Country, heading West."

"What about our trump card?"

"Unlikely to have any effect this late, not to mention otherwise engaged."

"So he's slipped out of our control after all this time."

"So it seems. Regardless of his stated intentions of 'retirement', the mere fact that he's broken ties in such a manner makes him a critical danger to us all. It need not be said that such a situation is unacceptable. However, this presents a difficulty – Itachi is immensely powerful, easily enough to completely demolish anyone less than the Sannin."

"I don't think I like where this is going..."

"You know that there are only three such ninja within our rosters. One is unavailable for missions, obviously, and the other is on extended leave. That leaves just the one."

"Then...you mean to send _him_? It's been twelve years since he was last in an active combat situation."

"I don't think we have a choice. He was, and still is, the best we have available. Not to mention that it was for just this situation that he was trained...ironically enough."

"And that 'irony' is precisely _why_ I am concerned. If he loses control-"

"Possible, but unlikely. His 'probation' record is exemplary."

"Because he has not been allowed anywhere _near_ a battle! The exams were risky enough!"

"And now we need him to re-enter the field. And to minimize risk, he'll be going alone. Far less chance of...collateral damage."

"What a cold way of putting it."

"Would you rather I say that he's a danger to himself and everyone around him on the battlefield?"

"No, because it's not his fault, and he deserves that much credit at least."

"...yes, I suppose that he does. But intentional or not, it still happens."

"Will nothing I say convince you to consider an alternative?"

"There _is_ no alternative – not with any real potential for success. The best we could do otherwise is to hope that Itachi is suddenly rendered mute and loses the ability to write, the odds of which are obscenely unfavorable, or knowingly send a good ninja to his or her death."

"Very well, but I wash my hands of this in totality!"

"If you must, but it is clear that this _must _occur. I would ask that you approach _him_. He respects you far more than he does me."

"Perhaps if you had shown a little faith in the two of them back then-"

"Perhaps, and I will admit that I have wronged them. Regardless, he has always trusted you over me."

"Alright, then. But this ends my involvement."

"Acceptable."

* * *

I didn't know until much later that an unstable hunter specifically trained to eliminate Kage-level nuke-nin was being sent after me at the exact moment that I was crossing the northernmost border between Snow and Rice. Nor was I aware that one even existed; typically Hunter-nin are mid-to-high-level ANBU operatives. Strong, but only on the level of Kakashi.

Thinking of Kakashi always brings me to his on-again-off-again best friend/bitter rival, Maito Gai. Heh, what a strange person. For someone who dresses and acts the part of an overenthusiastic nitwit, I think it's safe to say that Gai is probably the deadliest and most effective ninja in Konoha, save for the Sannin.

Well, so I thought, anyway. I didn't work with him much, seeing as he was typically too loud for the covert operations that were my area of expertise, but _everyone_ in ANBU knew _of_ him.

Maito Gai. Age 34 (then). 180cm, 108 kg. Over six hundred A- and S- class successful missions completed, last I knew. Failed missions...zero.

In ANBU, you're expected to fail. It's a nasty little facet of the job. The stuff an ANBU gets is as far above Jounin-level missions as Jounin missions are above the difficulties faced by a first-year Academy student. There is _no_ comparison. I myself failed seventeen missions, and next to Gai, I had the best success-to-failure ration.

I have no problem with admitting that Gai is physically and technically my vast superior. If I didn't have the Mangekyou, I wouldn't stand a chance against him. As it stands, any serious battle between the two of us would be a coin-toss; could I employ my Mangekyou-granted techniques before he could touch me?

And that's all it would take, really. One 'touch', and I would be dead. My only advantages over Gai are the predictive powers of the Sharingan, and that I can cast a genjutsu with a single finger. Whoever successfully struck first would win.

Speaking of which...

I ducked as kunai sliced into the tree where my head had been an instant before, threw myself sideways, and in the same motion kicked off the tree. Not a second later, the explosive notes wrapped around the handles of the projectiles detonated, taking out a small copse of old-growth forest. Lazily, I fell to the ground and landed on my feet.

"How very boring," I said flatly, pointedly _not_ looking up at the three hunter-nin in the trees around me. "Explosive kunai. Delta formation. Higher ground. Isn't there any inclination towards originality nowadays, or do you Iwa-nin still worship that outdated field manual of yours?"

"S-class missing nin Uchiha Itachi," the tallest one barked, glaring (I assume) at me through his mask, "You are hereby apprehended and required to surrender. Do so and your death will be painless. Fail to comply-"

Suddenly, I find myself tired of playing hide-and...no, 'tired' isn't the word at all. I'm _angry_. This honestly surprises me – I've spent almost an entire decade killing my heart, forcing every emotional outburst into a tiny little corner and summarily slitting each metaphorical throat with a blade forged of razor-sharp self-control.

Somehow, they've not only risen from their graves, but they've broken free.

The unfamiliarity of petty rage almost makes me high. I revel in the feeling briefly, before turning the uncaged beasts in the direction of my opponents. I had everything planned out! It was _going_ to work! I was _going _to retire gracefully, disappear into legend. Yet one little slip-up and suddenly every turd with a pointy stick and a death wish is crawling around, begging me to end their useless existence.

Well, then...who am I to refuse?

I cut him off with a terse wave. "Yes, yes, I know the speech. Suffice to say, I will not be surrendering. In fact, I'm having something of a bad day, these clothes pinch, and I haven't participated in a wholesale slaughter of useless shitheads in over two weeks." I raised my head and stared directly at the man who spoke. "I'm _way_ past due." My eyes burned, spun, and turned _red_.

I will admit it _only _here in this journal, that I enjoy wreaking psychological havoc on others. It's something of a guilty pleasure, if it can be called such. But it isn't really taking pleasure out of causing fear so much as it is being amusedly intrigued by the responses of others under extreme stress or unexpected situations. It's an experiment, I guess, one I've made into a game of sorts. If I correctly predict the response or action, I get a point. If I don't, I lose a point.

I have a very black sense of humor.

Another kunai, my own this time, shot through the air at lightning speed, zeroing in on the forehead of the ninja who had spoken.

_He'll block the kunai with the flat of his sword and the kunai will be sent spinning back at me, landing point-first in the ground almost thirty feet to my right._

The Hunter-nin raised his sword and swatted at my weapon, producing a discordant 'clang' as metal met metal, sending the slightly damaged projectile tumbling back to earth where it lodged itself deep in the dirt almost ten yards away from my right arm.

If the question was 'how', then the answer was 'Sharingan'.

"The hunt is a game, and a game I must play," I said darkly. "So let's play."

**And on and on and on...**


	5. Chapter 5: Explanations

**Chapter V**

As irritating as it must be for me to digress from my description of the battle at hand, I feel that I should first shed some light on the properties of my Kekkai Genkai. If there were any real chance of a rebuilt Uchiha clan I would never so much as _consider _such a course of action (for obvious reasons), but seeing as my brother will likely never break free of his eternal loathing for all those who are not Uchiha Sasuke long enough to actually form enough of a relationship with a girl to reproduce, and also considering that I am completely uninterested in siring a child, I feel that I can safely say that the Uchiha clan will end with the two of us. As such, it's perfectly harmless to let so-called 'clan secrets' out into the open, as the 'clan' will presumably become extinct soon.

As I am no medic-nin, the exact specifics of how my Doujutsu works are beyond my comprehension. I'm afraid that medical knowledge and I aren't exactly the best of friends, metaphorically speaking, so the only things I can relay regarding my Sharingan are what it's capable of and what little I know of the 'why'.

The Sharingan itself is surprisingly simple, and has three possible evolutionary plateaus, or 'levels', beyond the dormant stage. The first of these is the activated Sharingan. Of course, this also has sub-evolutions with regards to the number of _tomoe_, or 'commas', present within the activated Sharingan.

On a side note, most people don't quite realize is that the term 'Sharingan' doesn't actually refer to the eye itself, but rather the genetic mutation that gives an activated Sharingan its red hue when chakra flows through the cells. In other words, it isn't a Sharingan eye so much as it is an eye with the _mutation_ known as _Sharinhen'i_. For the sake of simplicity, however, I will bowbefore the weight of common misconception.

In the beginning of the Sharingan's history (which despite the Hyuuga's claims to the contrary, is in no way related to their famed Byakugan), the Sharingan was almost useless. The eye turned red, and it improved recall a little. A very lucky few were blessed with an eidetic memory.

But through the wonders of selective genetic engineering (better known as incest and inbreeding – my mother and father were first cousins), the cells in the Uchiha eyes became more and more mutated. Particular traits were enhanced, and those that were less desirable were culled. After several hundred years, the Sharingan as we know it today was born.

The initial stage of the Sharingan is dormancy. Unlike the Hyuuga, who are far older and far more inbred than the Uchiha were, not all clan members could activate the Sharingan. While our scrolls boast that the bloodline only appears in the midst of a life-or-death battle, my own research has found this to be somewhat misleading.

It is true that mortal combat does often produce the conditions that make activation possible, but it is not absolutely necessary. The Sharingan requires only three things to break past its own dormancy; Uchiha eyes, adrenaline, and chakra channeled to said eyes. This is a little more difficult than it seems, I must confess, as there must be _enough_ adrenaline and_ enough_ chakra, and there is an infinitesimally small window of opportunity where all three factors have to be in perfect harmony to allow the 'ascension'. Brute force in this instance is useless; flooding the eyes with chakra in such a situation is more likely to blow them out of your skull than to activate the Kekkai Genkai. I have personally seen this happen on more than one occasion. It is very unpleasant.

After the initial activation, there appears in each eye a single tomoe. Such was the case with me, as well as my father, my cousins, and nearly every recorded Uchiha in our history who has activated our 'revered' bloodline. I believe that my brother Sasuke is the sole exception to this rule, as his initial activation in Nami no Kuni created _three _tomoe; one in his left eye, two in his right.

Each tomoe is tied to a specific aspect of the initial Sharingan's 'trinity' of abilities. The first tomoe is representative of 'observation'. From what I understand, it roughly quadruples the relay of information between the optic nerve and the brain. The upshot of this is that the user will be able to focus and see at a superhuman range. An excellent example of this is found in Hatake Kakashi. Though not an Uchiha by birth, his implanted Sharingan performs in much the same capacity as one naturally occurring. His sole original technique, the aptly-named 'Chidori' is essentially a thrusting knife-hand covered by lightning-based chakra.

The drawback, however, is that in order to be effective, he has to move at phenomenal speeds – speed of such a level that the human eye can't quite keep up. 'Tunnel vision' is the term most often used, but it's not quite right. The eye is essentially a video camera – it takes hundreds, even thousands of 'pictures' per second. This is known as 'frame rate'. The differences in eye and object position due to action is interpreted by the brain as motion. When a camera tries to record a video of an object moving faster than its own frame rate limit, the object will blur and, at higher speeds, will appear to disappear. With relation to the human eye, this is known as 'speed blindness'. The first tomoe of the Sharingan completely eliminates this issue, as well as allowing one to see through most genjutsu.

The second tomoe is 'mimicry'. It is easily the most well-known of the Sharingan's abilities, not to mention the one most despised. The second tomoe lets us observe and copy not only physical actions, but chakra actions as well, which are invisible to most people. Coupled with the talents of the first tomoe, it actually writes what it sees on the neurons of the brain, which is the basis of the 'copycat' technique.

It isn't perfect, however. Jutsu which have no seals cannot be copied, as the ability to manipulate chakra without seals is itself the result of mental training and therefore immune to our eyes, and taijutsu is hit-or-miss. I honestly don't understand why some taijutsu can be stolen and others can't. And if someone screws up a jutsu, or you somehow miss an action, then the whole copy is corrupted and will fail every time. It's actually the reason why I have _never_ used my Sharingan to copy another's jutsu, but rather forced myself to manually learn and understand each technique I have, essentially dissecting it. Rote memorization and summary regurgitation has never satisfied me in any capacity; I like to know not only the how but the why and what-if as well.

The third tomoe is 'prediction', and I consider this the most useful of the basic Sharingan's abilities. When a person has intent to move, there's a brief moment, measured in fractions of a fraction of a fraction of a second, where the muscles tense and prepare themselves to get from point A to point B. In ninja, chakra accelerates this process until it happens so fast that it's almost instant.

How fortunate, then, that the Sharingan has no difficulty in seeing chakra. The third tomoe sees this chakra-enhanced tensing and preparation as though it was rimmed with neon lights and translates it into what the Sharingan scrolls refer to as a 'Shadow of Intent'. Muscles only tense in a certain way for each definitive action, and the third tomoe picks up on this and creates a hazy facsimile of our opponent's next move on our retinas. Feints against a mature Sharingan are completely useless.

Therein lies the source of the Sharingan's presumed foresight. Those with enough skill at lip-reading and psychology can even use this to appear to read an opponent's mind. I understand that Hatake Kakashi uses this skillfully.

The Mangekyou, of course, is a whole different story. Physically, the changes are unique to each bearer. My own Mangekyou looks very much like a triple-bladed windmill shuriken. Kakashi's is similar, but appears to have secondary spines connecting the apexes of each 'blade' with a wheel-within-wheel design.

The Mangekyou is a dangerous intermediate stage of Sharingan; dangerous not only to others, but to the user as well; not only are the inherent techniques devastatingly draining, but prolonged use will cause physical trauma to the eye itself. It is darkly appropriate, then, that the manner of its activation be just as twisted.

In my own experience, I achieved this state by drowning my best friend and fourth cousin, Uchiha Shisui, in accordance with what the secret scrolls of the Uchiha clan dictated.

I hated doing it, and I hated myself for doing. For such an act, for such a selfish reason, I will burn in Hell if it exists. I could make excuses, say it was necessary, but the power I received, despite being great, was nowhere near compensation enough for my crime.

I readily admit this.

And now, knowing that Hatake Kakashi himself has achieved that same level _without_ resorting to such an abhorrent act makes me ill. The destruction of my clan was necessary, truly and deservedly so, but the murder of Shisui was out of a desire for power. And now I find that it was unnecessary.

...But as I was saying, the Mangekyou's risks are enormous, but so is the power granted. Like the mature lesser Sharingan, the Mangekyou grants three new abilities, although there are no additional evolutions required to access each ability.

The first of these is ironically named 'Amaterasu'. Invoking the name of Amaterasu, the brilliant golden goddess of the sun, in order to sear the flesh from another with black flames...what I privately deem _'En'netsujigoku'_, or 'The Flames of Hell'...

Such a cruel sense of humor, far eclipsing the blackness of my own, could only be held by an Uchiha. The flames of Amaterasu will burn unceasingly until that which fuels them is consumed and rendered into ash.

Scary shit, in all honesty.

The next ability, Tsukiyomi, is a little harder to explain. It's a massively draining nin/genjutsu hybrid of unbelievable power and possibility.

We know the mind has great, untapped reserves of power. We know that the mind has the ability to slow time, subjectively speaking, giving apparent but definitively functional use of an eternity within a split-second. Ninja learn to harness the ability to some extent, letting them have sporadic bursts of what our scientists call 'Inverse Planck Time'. Having more time to react, even if it's only within your own mind, can be the difference between life and death.

Tsukiyomi takes this to a whole new level. Using direct eye contact, the Mangekyou can force its target's consciousness into a temporary dimension within the mind of the user. The user has complete control over this dimension; he is, after all, the creator of a new reality, and what kind of God allows others to dictate to him what his world should be like? I use primarily 'corporal' forms of torture within the world of Tsukiyomi, as such methods are simple and readily repeatable if need be.

In a lesser application, Tsukiyomi creates a fourth-dimensional hole of sorts within a third-dimensional physical space. (As for what exactly the forth dimension is, no-one knows. We know it exists and we know that the Tsukiyomi can influence it, but what is it? If the first dimension is a line, the second a box, and the third a cube, then the fourth dimension would be being able to see all sides of the cube at once from a single location; a rudimentary form of omnipresence. But how this translates into a realistic application is beyond us). The practical upshot of this is that the fourth dimension will drag any dimensions within its vicinity into itself. When the flow of chakra is cut off by the user, the hole collapses, taking whatever was within its sphere of influence with it.

Now, as for Susano'o...well, frankly, I don't understand it. I don't know how it works, or why. All I know is that Mangekyou Sharingan users can bring into being a deadly, nigh-invulnerable spectral warrior to fight for them. It is the sole technique in my repertoire that I have not dissected, that I cannot claim to have mastered. Susano'o just...is. It is mysterious. It is lethal. And it is so draining as to be nearly fatal to the user as well as the foe. Truly a double-edged sword, to dig so deeply into the bodies of both combatants...

And as terrifying as it may seem, there is yet another level beyond the Mangekyou, one that I myself have seen, yet not reached. It is the Eternal Mangekyou, and it is a gate I shall never pass through, as it would require me to steal Sasuke's eyes.

From what little I know of this final evolution of our cursed eyes, placing natural yet genetically imperfect Sharingan eyes seems to eliminate the drawbacks of the Mangekyou, as well as opening up a world of new power, the likes of which I cannot and will not travel.

As big a disappointment as Sasuke is, as irredeemable as he may seem, he is still my younger brother. For an Uchiha, to be blinded is to be taken lower than death; it is to be cast into Hell. Death? If he comes after me with such a goal in mind, I will instead lay such a gift on him. But never, _ever_ blindness; nor even exchange. He does wrongly by his own powers as of yet – why tempt fate with offering him more? No; if Sasuke is to die, then so be it, but I will neither torment him nor will I bargain with him. He deserves neither more power nor endless black terror.

Bound by blood, separated by blood, and eventually drowned in blood; such is our tragedy, we last few of the Uchiha.

**The battle resumes next chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6: Depredations

**Chapter VI**

Three on one; pretty unusual for hunter-nin. They tend to work alone, as the bounty check only goes in a single direction that way. More people on the same job equals a smaller paycheck. In a normal situation, with normal ninja, this would be a bad situation. And Iwa-nin would follow a precise and efficient pattern. One would close the distance, grappling with me to ensure my arms and hands were engaged. A second would bombard me from behind from higher ground with projectiles, maximizing the amount of my body would be a target while minimizing that of his/her comrade, as well as allowing the grappler ample time to see and react to the attacks from behind. The third would go in for the kill from the side, either aiming for both kidneys, or going at the heart through the underarm. For any normal ninja, the tactic was devastating, usually lethal, occasionally crippling.

I, of course, am no normal ninja.

Immediately, my Sharingan predicted the Nin who had spoken coming in, a trench-knife in each hand. I sighed in exasperation, almost overtaking my anger; was this really the best they could do? Well, in other circumstances, I might be tempted to play for a while. As it was, I was annoyed, and these arrogant little pukes were wasting my time.

Taking several short, quick steps forward, I casually ducked under a windmill shuriken. In doing so, I closed the distance faster than my first opponent anticipated. Reaching out, I hooked my hands underneath his elbows and jerked up, bending his arms elbows point-upwards. In the same motion, I angled my forearms around his and thrust forward. He gave a strangled sound as his own weapons sliced deep into his abdomen just below the sternum. Quickly catching his hands in mine, I pulled his opposite hands apart, gutting him in a quick spray of blood. He fell to the ground, hands helplessly trying to remake his belly as I sidestepped a quick thrust with a ninjato from the left.

A woman this time, I noticed with mild surprise as I sidestepped another burst of thrown kunai. Women in ANBU and the hunter-nin corps are highly unusual, as the job pretty much demands secrecy and a menstruating kunoichi can be detected by any of a number of ninja clans with heightened senses of smell. That happens to be a very annoying and embarrassing thing to write on a failed mission report:

"Mission failed because Sazuka Orihime was leaking blood from her naughty bits and a creepy enemy nin got a whiff of it." Not fun at all. Not to mention that PMSing ANBU are fucking scary. In all of Konoha, there was only one female ANBU, a woman named Uzuki Yuugao. Encountering a Yuki-nin Hunter was unusual enough, but to run into yet another only a few hours later? With odds like these, I may have to start gambling.

I was shaken out of my contemplation by being forced to bend over backwards as her blade nearly shaved the skin off of the tip of my nose. I arched an eye in appreciation. She was good. She was _very_ good. Cartwheeling backwards out of the way of a hail of throwing stars and kunai, I put some distance between the two of us.

"You're quite skilled with a blade," I said roughly, wishing I had my old ANBU blade by my side. It would have been fun to see how she matched up in pure kenjutsu.

"I'm one of the best," she snarled, leaping forward with a quick slice that I slapped aside with my palm. She used the added momentum to spin around and add power to an elbow strike aimed at my face.

"One of the best?" I mocked, catching her arm and jerking down. She gasped as she stared up at me from behind her mask, her head essentially laying in my lap. "Maybe," I smirked, looking down into green eyes through the slits in the mask. "But _one of_ just doesn't cut it with me, little girl." On an impulse, I reached around and viciously tweaked her right nipple through her shirt before dropping her and leaping straight up into the trees, avoiding a flurry of senbon. I smirked as I heard her shriek of pain and anger. She wasn't a huge problem, but that sniper was starting to piss me off.

_Ah. There you are_,I thought smugly, seeing a flitting form dancing between the tops of trees. All it took was a quick shunshin and my kunai was scraping flecks of bone off of the entire length of his spine. I dropped his corpse to the forest floor.

I was searching for the woman ANBU when I froze as a very cold blade rested lightly on my jugular. I felt the slight sting of an extraordinarily sharp blade leaving a shallow cut across throat.

"Stand up," she ordered tersely, and I complied slowly.

"I'll admit," I said calmly, "I'm fairly impressed." The woman chuckled darkly.

"Looks like your eyes aren't quite so impressive after all, Uchiha."

"Better than yours," I said from behind her. I truly wish she hadn't been wearing a mask, because the look on her face when my clone suddenly melted into mud must have been priceless. She sighed in resignation as she became aware of my own blade, pointed upwards beneath her chin.

"Damn. And here I was thinking that I'd get you back for pinching my tit."

I clucked my tongue mockingly. "Oh, stop complaining. I don't make a habit of killing women."

Still she refused to relax. "So am I to assume that the clothes you're wearing are a fashion statement, or does the great Uchiha Itachi have a dirty little secret?"

I laughed lightly. "Just because I don't make a habit of killing women doesn't mean that I can't." I cocked my head in amusement. "Or would you like to join your comrades? I mean, if you really _want_..." I let my sardonic sentence trail off.

She grunted in irritation. "No, thank you. I like my throat the way it is, with no extra breathing holes." She hesitated for a few moments. "I have to say," she ventured cautiously, "that you're rather polite for an S-class murdering bastard perv."

"Why thank you," I said dryly. "Such kind words make me swoon." My free hand traveled up her neck and slowly pushed her mask up. She shuddered at the feather-light touch. "But, just because I've no intention of _killing _you..."

I spun her around and shifted my kunai so that it was pressed between the ribs immediately under her left breast. Startled green eyes were set in a face that, if there hadn't been a rather nasty scar from her right cheekbone to just under her left eye, crossing her upper lip and nose, would have been extraordinarily pretty. Short, spiky red hair topped her head haphazardly. I slammed her against the trunk of the tree we were standing in, shoving her over to make sure the coarse bark dug into her back. To her credit, the rough treatment didn't make her blink an eye.

"...doesn't mean that you're getting out of this unscathed," I finished, baring a few teeth in a small but nasty grin. Her eyes widened in terror as she immediately thought of what I could mean. I quickly disillusioned her of that notion.

"I have no intention of sexually assaulting you," I said flatly, "so take whatever small comfort you can from that." Immediate relief. "Although, if your hand keeps moving towards the kunai hidden behind your right thigh, I may be persuaded to change my mind."

A lie. If she decided not to heed my warning, I'd kill her, but I would never rape her. I may be a murderer of the most heinous caliber, but the idea of forcing myself on a woman made me uncomfortable. It wasn't because of 'respect' for women, because I afforded neither sex any privileges over the other, but rather a combination of indifference towards sex in general and the fact that you could never be sure exactly _where _a kunoichi would hide a weapon, and whether or not they could use it without hands.

I mentally shuddered. My ex-girlfriend/almost fiancée Anko was overpowered once on a mission and almost raped, but she hid several kunai in her genitals, and the attempted rapist was hurt rather badly. She used his pain as distraction enough to kill him and escape. She would often laugh about that particular incident. It was also why I was exceedingly cautious with her when it came to sex.

The ninja's hand stilled and lay flat. I slowly backed her up against the trunk of the tree we were standing in. With a quick motion, I reached behind her, grabbing the small knife hidden just beneath her right buttock. She flushed in anger and embarrassment, and I let the weapon drop.

"We're going to play a game. It's called "Truth or Die". I ask you a question, and you answer it truthfully. Lie to me..." I pushed a little harder on the kunai resting on the flesh directly above her heart, letting a small red droplet loose as I broke the skin. "...and 'the best' lose one of their number."

A flush of anger rose to the surface of her face, making her deep scar stand out, but she nodded. I smiled insincerely. "I'm so very happy we understand one another. Now tell me: how did you and your team know where I was?"

She scowled. "We received a report from Snow Country that you'd tried to kill one of their ninja, you'd disguised yourself in her clothing and that you were heading north. You look fabulous by the way." I ignored the jibe as I pondered this. 'Tried' to kill? I broke that nin's neck; how is that 'tried' to kill?

"But why were _Iwa_-nin sent after me?" The look she gave me was pretty clearly an 'are you an idiot?'.

"Ever heard of a Bingo Book, genius? You've got a fucking fifty million ryo bounty on your head."

True, but my Sharingan caught something. "You're hiding something," I said flatly. "Are you really willing to die to keep a secret?"

"Ninja do it all the time," she shot back. Credit where credit's due, she didn't flinch nor panic at being caught. "It's part of what we do."

"Only when necessary," I countered, adding a little more weight to the kunai. She twitched as it dug in a little deeper. "And all I'm asking are a few simple questions. Now, _how did Iwa know where I was_?"

She relented. "A Jounin border guard recognized you when you passed through with false papers, 'Tachi-kun'."

Damn it. I knew I should have slaughtered them. No more mistakes from now on. With a casual motion, I shoved the Kunai through her heart and watched her eyes bulge before she sagged.

"No more loose ends," I said to her regretfully. "No more games, no more risks."

I could not afford to be stopped now. Already I had wasted too much time and given away far too many advantages. I was no longer Akatsuki; I could no longer rely on a partner, and neither could I travel 'hidden in plain sight' as I once had. If I was seriously going to 'retire', I would need a place with no ninja and no need for them.

There were precious few such places amongst the Elemental Countries; ninja villages, both major and minor, peppered the lands with alarming frequency.

The idea struck me like a sledgehammer. I knew where I could go, where I could disappear into a crowd, and where the legendary Uchiha Itachi could be just another man.

Nami no Kuni – Wave Country.

**And here's where things start to get interesting.**


	7. Chapter 7: Exhortations

**Chapter VII**

"Alright, settle down!" Umino Iruka scowled half-heartedly at his rambunctious classroom. Nobody listened, and he sighed. _Good God, it's like an entire room full of Naruto. What a frightening thought_. Drawing in a deep breath, he held it for a few seconds just in case.

"SHUT UP!"

Instant silence. _Ahh_, he thought gleefully, _I've still got it!_ "Today," he lectured, walking around his desk to stand in front of the chalkboard, "marks a very important day in your lives. Because today, you get to learn about the different rankings of ninja, and we'll be having one person from each branch come in."

There was a cheer from the children, and Iruka smirked slightly. All it took to capture and keep children's attention was a break from routine. 'Keep it interesting, keep 'em interested' was his motto, and it was why he, Umino Iruka, was the top Academy Instructor. Students came to him as children and left not only as competent pre-Genin, but also with a firm idea of strength in unity. Children loved him, and he prepared them well for the difficult life of a shinobi.

"Beyond Genin, which you all know about, there are Chuunin." He pointed at himself. "I'm a Chuunin, which is signified by this vest that I wear. It marks me as being capable of leading a team and accepting responsibilities greater than those of a Genin. But!" He held up his finger. "Just because I'm a Chuunin doesn't necessarily mean that I'm a better fighter than some Genin. Strength has very little to do with ranking in the ninja world."

A boy with brown hair and grey eyes held up his hand. "Why? Shouldn't stronger people get ranked higher?"

Iruka laughed lightly. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? Let me put it this way. If you had the choice between a weak genius and a strong moron to lead a team, who would you rather pick?" He paused and scratched his chin before continuing. "Sure, the moron might be able to fight better, but that doesn't mean that he'll be able to _lead_. Chuunin need to be able to plan and react, not just fight. Several years ago, I had a student by the name of Nara Shikamaru. And he was one of my worst students. They called him a _dobe, _or 'dead last'." Iruka smiled in reminiscence. "Honestly, he was so lazy that he couldn't even finish tests. He claimed it was too much work to pick up the pencil."

Laughter echoed throughout the room, which stopped when Iruka held up his hand for silence. "He was also the only one promoted to Chuunin in the Chuunin Exam right before the Sound Invasion seven years ago. _And _he forfeited his fight. He fought so brilliantly on his own despite his lack of physical strength that his abilities were graded as Chuunin-class. Now he's ranked higher than me." Iruka nodded at the children, who had their jaws hanging open in disbelief.

"Shikamaru is a genius, and he's a master of strategy." Iruka hopped into a sitting position on his desk, enjoying himself. "During the Sound Invasion, he led a team of Genin who completely _annihilated_ the Snake Sannin Orochimaru's _elite bodyguards _without a _single_ fatality. And this was his first mission as a Chuunin! So you see, even though he was a weak fighter, his brilliance allowed him to overcome his bodily shortcomings and use Genin to destroy Jounin in one-on-one battles."

"Cooool," the entire room breathed, and Iruka smiled.

"But, that isn't to say that a weak genius is necessarily _better _than a strong moron, either," Iruka said deviously. As his students puzzled over the apparent contradiction, Iruka crossed his legs. "Sure, a genius may be able to lead, but the pieces he commands have to be strong in and of themselves. Shikamaru's success against Orochimaru's Jounin was only possible because each of his subordinates – Inuzuka Kiba, Uzumaki Naruto, Akimichi Chouji, Aburame Shino, and Hyuuga Neji – were powerful in their own right. It's important not to get caught up in 'labels' and 'ranks' because, although they _are _important indicators of a person's overall ability, none of that matters when you're fighting for your life."

Iruka closed his eyes briefly. "What matters is teamwork. Relying only on yourself can only get you so far. Relying only on others will limit your growth. But to work together is to break free of human limitations."

He hopped off of his desk and, walking over to the door, slid it open.

"Alright, you can come in now, Gai," he said, and he was immediately followed by the (in)famous former ANBU, green spandex and all.

"Yosh! It is my greatest pleasure to carry the torch of the fires of youth and to help pass it on unto the newest generation, my youthful comrades!" Gai bellowed, flashing perfect teeth and a thumbs-up.

The metaphorical sound of crickets chirping was interrupted by Iruka's polite cough. "Ahem, thank you, Gai." _No wonder he left ANBU,_ Iruka thought in amusement. _For a job that requires ultimate secrecy and silence to be given to _him_ is insane._ He turned to his class.

"Maito Gai is a Jounin, and outside of the Hokage and Jiraiya, he's one of the strongest people in the village." Gai pumped a fist in the air and thrust out his hip with a silent 'yosh' clearly begging to break past the barrier of his lips. Ignoring his 'youthful comrade', Iruka continued.

"Gai is one of the best ninja in Konoha. He isn't gifted with a bloodline. He hasn't any doujutsu. He doesn't even come from a clan. And he'll be the first type to admit it, and do so proudly." The scarred Chuunin gestured to Gai, who adopted a serious air.

"Indeed, young ones. I am not a 'genius-type' ninja, blessed with anything above what one might consider normal. BUT!" He shouted, causing the students to jump. "I am a genius of hard work! For I make everything into training! If I wake up late, I do a thousand push-ups! If I wake up early, a thousand sit-ups! If I am bested by my eternal rival Hatake Kakashi, I will do three thousand pull-ups! If I am victorious over him, I will run around Konoha fifty times!"

Gai grinned broadly. "It is such a youthful attitude that has made me so strong, and it has also made my precious and most youthful student Rock Lee, who cannot use chakra at all, into a valuable and powerful ninja of the leaf! And I am triumphant over the genius-type ninja Kakashi, with one hundred ninety-one wins, one hundred ninety losses!" He flashed another blinding grin and threw his right fist forward in a 'thumbs-up' pose.

_'Super lame...' _was the single thought shared by the students.

The pained look on Iruka's face belied the politeness of his 'thank you' to Gai as the green-clad Jounin disappeared with a swirl of leaves and a cry of 'Seishun'. Shaking his head to clear it, the scarred Chuunin shrugged and continued.

"In addition to Jounin, there are a few branch ranks. Medical Nin, Special Jounin, and Interrogation Specialists. All these are approximately of the same rank as Jounin." With a burst of smoke, three figures appeared in the room to startled squeaks. "Shizune here," Iruka said, gesturing to the black-haired woman waving to the children, "is a Medic-nin. She is also in charge of the Konoha Hospital, as she trained underneath our Godaime Hokage, Senjuu Tsunade. Her responsibilities as a Medic-nin are pretty big, but she does a great job."

"She's really pretty!" One small boy yelled out, and Shizune smiled. Chuckling, Iruka motioned for the only male of the three to step forward.

"Morino Ibiki is our Head of Interrogation. He 'talks' to enemy ninja that we've captured and gets them to tell us their secrets." He held up a finger, ignoring the smirk of the heavily scarred man. "Morino-san has a very difficult job, because getting information from prisoners is a touchy business. And information is life."

"Bleh," the same small boy gagged, making a face, "he's really _not _pretty." Laughter saturated the room. The Chuunin cast a sharp look towards Ibiki, but the man merely arched an eyebrow at the rude remark. Before Iruka could continue, a weight suddenly slammed into his back, pushing him off-balance.

"Heeeeyyyy, Iruka-kun," Anko purred dangerously as he tottered, "how come you made me be last? Should I be worried about you throwing me over for Shizune-chan or Ibiki-kun?" One deceptively small hand snaked its way around his front and played with the waistband of his pants.

"Dammit, Anko!" Iruka hollered, forcefully removing her hand, "There are kids in the room!"

Anko pouted. "Aww, let 'em watch. You're a teacher, after all..." She grinned wickedly. "And it'd be a _hell_ of an education." Ibiki let out a blackly amused snort, eliciting a reproachful glare from the beleaguered Chuunin.

_Sweet gods above_, Iruka sighed mentally, as he managed to pry her limbs from his body, _what the hell possessed me to get involved with a shameless, psychotic killer? ...oh, right. Amazing sex._

"This," he said dryly, "Is Mitarashi Anko, a Tokubetsu Jounin, and my girlfriend. Special Jounin are Jounin-level ninja who, while _technically_ Chuunin in that they haven't passed a Jounin Exam, have Jounin-level specialization in at least one area. Anko here is an Assassination specialist."

"Hiyeeeee!" Anko grinned madly, waving furiously at the room. "I see some real cuties out there; too bad I'm already taken by dear little Iruka-kun here! I'm thirty years old, I like Iruka-kun, snakes, killing things, blood, and lots and lots of really kinky se-"

"Thank you, Anko, that will be all!" Iruka interrupted hurriedly. He leaned in close and hissed, "What are you trying to do, scar these kids?"

Anko took out a kunai and licked it slowly. "Hey, live a little! So what if I scar 'em? Scars are _way _sexy," she smirked. Iruka gave her a long-suffering glance and raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if pleading for help from above.

"I'll discuss this with you later," he whispered sternly, to which she answered with a blown kiss and a lecherous grin. In a louder voice, he said, "Thank you all for your time. You may go." All three disappeared, but not before Anko pinched Iruka's bottom, sending him leaping into the air.

Flustered, irritated, and reluctantly aroused, the scarred Chuunin's face was flushed as he attempted to get things back on track.

"Lastly," he continued, "are the ANBU and a subdivision of the same, the Hunter-nin. The term 'ANBU' is a condensation of the phrase 'Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai'." He quickly sketched eight characters onto the chalkboard. He turned to face his students, his face unusually serious.

"ANBU are the elite. They are the best of the best, and as such, they get the hardest missions. They don't fool around, and they don't get second chances. Not at this level. ANBU either succeed, or they die." Not completely true, but that's what the usual danger was on missions for ANBU who screwed up. "Note the characters that make up the phrase itself," he said, pointing to each in turn. "_Kure_, meaning 'darkness'. _Koru_, meaning 'to kill'. _Ikusa_, meaning 'war'. _Jutsu,_meaning 'technique'. _Toku_, meaning 'special'. _Koto_, meaning 'exceptional'. _Bu_, a suffix meaning 'section'. And _Tai_, meaning 'corps'. ANBU are not one, they are many. They are the exceptional, they are the children of darkness. They are the premiere assassins and fighters in our village."

Iruka paused to allow the seriousness of what he was saying sink in. As stern and understanding expressions began to appear on the faces of the children before him, he nodded and went to the classroom door. Sliding it open, he was suddenly face-to-face with an ANBU.

It wasn't entirely unexpected; after all, there _was_ supposed to be an ANBU waiting. But this was not the ANBU he had gotten to come, and Yuugao was nowhere in sight. Before he could open his mouth to ask the inevitable question, the ANBU, a short man whose face was hidden behind a preying mantis mask spoke.

"Umino Iruka, your presence is required at the Hokage tower immediately."

Thrown off-balance, Iruka stuttered, "B-but what...I have a class to-" The ANBU's hand shot out and grabbed Iruka's shoulder and squeezed fiercely. All politeness drained out of the taller man's face as he stared into the masked ninja.

"Take your hand off of me," the Chuunin said flatly, but the ANBU only squeezed tighter.

"Your presence is _required_ at the Hokage tower imme-"

Iruka's eyes narrowed dangerously, and a strange fire lit in them. "You _really _don't want me to have to _REMOVE_ your hand," he stated dangerously. The true meaning of his threat wasn't lost on anybody. Iruka's students watched, wide-eyed, as the ANBU hesitated and slowly released his grip on the taller man. The light in the scarred Chuunin's eyes dimmed, but didn't go out completely.

"...you may have thirty seconds to dismiss your class. No longer." Iruka nodded sharply and turned to his students.

"Sorry, guys," he said cheerfully. "Looks like class gets out early today." Instead of cheering this unexpected news, the children, in awe of their easygoing teacher's blatant intimidation of an ANBU, stayed completely silent as the two disappeared in a swirl of leaves.

Only one thought was running through their minds.

_Iruka-sensei is _so_ cool!_

"What the hell do _you _want?" Iruka snarled. The object of his ire, Mitokado Homura, accepted the Chuunin's anger without so much as a twitch. His companion, Utatane Koharu, spoke instead.

"Iruka-kun, please," she pleaded gently. "Homura has made his mistakes, as have you and I. Can we not let bygones be bygones?" The normally laid-back Chuunin bared his teeth in anger.

"It isn't a 'bygone', Utatane," he spat, intentionally leaving off the honorific, "because of the stigma that still hovers of Anko-chan and I. Like we had a fucking choice of which instructor we got! And you still-"

"Iruka-kun, the village is slow to change," Koharu lectured, "and yet even now, your involvement is all but forgotten, and mostly forgiven by those who haven't."

"You think this is about _me_?!" The scarred Chuunin bellowed at the old woman, shaking with rage. "What about _Anko_? You know, the woman who was the whole _reason_ Orochimaru's activities came to light? People treat her like she's the fucking plague, and you've done _nothing_ to dissuade them, or even to let them know that she's the reason why half of them aren't stuck in some laboratory somewhere!" Iruka scoffed and folded his arms. "'Snake-bitch', they call her. 'Orochimaru's whore'. 'Slut'. 'Traitor'! And it's all because of _you,_" - he stabbed a finger at the still-silent figure of Homura - "you who couldn't even be bothered to _thank _her for defying impossible odds to _warn_ your fucking ungrateful ass, and then to publicly have us _arrested_ for it?!"

Homura finally spoke. "Your teacher-"

"Don't call him that," the Chuunin hissed dangerously.

"-Orochimaru had already fled, and there was no way for us to find him." The older man sighed. "We had to look like we were doing _something_, or the villager's faith in us would have crumbled."

"Bull. SHIT. The villagers don't run Konoha, _old man_," Iruka sneered, stepping forward threateningly. Several ANBU appeared around the edge of the room, but Koharu waved them off subtly as Iruka continued. "You could have sent Namikaze Minato after him – after all, he wasn't yet Hokage; he could have gone. You could have sent your precious 'White Fang'. You could have sent Jiraiya. But instead, you decided to sit on your hands and put on a show by throwing two innocent _children_ in jail. You played puppetmaster while Asano died in agony because of that fucking cursed seal!"

"Enough, Iruka!" Homura barked. "Yes, I wronged you and Anko. Yes, I allowed your team-mate to die through my inaction. Yes, I let Orochimaru go without a fight. I cannot change that, and for as long as both of us live, you have the right to hold that over my head. But that is not at issue here!"

Iruka scowled, but lapsed into silence. Homura sighed and rested his chin on his hand.

"Chuunin Umino Iruka, former student of Orochimaru, you were summoned here for a solo SS-Class mission which you cannot refuse." At this, the scarred Chuunin stiffened.

"You can't-"

"I can," the older man interrupted sternly. "As of this moment, you are hereby relieved of your duties at the Academy. You are no longer 'Umino Iruka, Chuunin' - you are to now reinstated into the Hunter Corps, Hunter-nin 'Wolf'."

"Wolf's" teeth ground together violently. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he shot back bitterly. "Like _this, _maybe?" He roughly pulled his collar aside to reveal a black three-pronged shuriken shape on his collarbone, much like Itachi's Mangekyou. "This curse which makes me go mad in combat, which turns my blood to acid and sets my every nerve on fire? This thing that goes crazy every time I fight?"

"We haven't forgotten," Koharu murmured, shifting in her seat. "And as dangerous as it is to send you into combat with that _Shinkai_ seal, we have every confidence in your abilities to control it."

"Funny," Iruka shot back sarcastically, "you didn't show so much faith back then."

"You were trained from graduation to hunt down and eliminate the traitorous ninja who foolishly abandon their duties," Homura muttered, pointedly ignoring the barb. "Trained by a man who would be Hokage, had he not been revealed for the devil he is. To kill is your purpose. You are the blade, we are the arm that directs you. You are a specialist of the highest caliber." He leveled a piercing stare at the reinstated Hunter-nin. "That you cannot control the upper limits of your great power is unfortunate, but perhaps...perhaps your madness will make you the perfect foil against this target, as he is a creature ever ruled by the dictates of Logic."

"We _need_ you, Iruka," Koharu admitted. "We need a ninja of exceptional skill and power to eliminate a dangerous threat to Konoha. Tsunade cannot leave Konoha, and Jiraiya is off with the Uzumaki boy."

"So send Maito Gai! Send Kakashi!" Iruka growled. Homura shot him a withering look.

"Please. Send _those _two? I'll admit that they are excellent ninja as well as former ANBU, but they are in no way on the same level as Tsunade, Jiraiya, or yourself. They would be slaughtered."

The scarred Chuunin frowned sternly. "And who is this 'threat' that only _I _and my twisted mind," he mocked, "can deal with?"

The two aged ninja exchanged a quick glance, which Iruka took note of. There was an uncomfortable quiet that fell across the room for several minutes.

It was Koharu who decided to break the silence. "Tell me, Iruka-kun," she began slowly. "What do you know of the Uchiha massacre...?"

**Here we go...**


	8. Chapter 8: Infiltrations

**Chapter VIII**

The land of Nami no Kuni is situated approximately two hundred kilometers north of Kiri, putting it almost one and a half thousand kilometers north of Konoha. Unlike Kiri, however, it is a fairly warm place, albeit a touch humid, as it is situated exactly in the center of conflicting trade winds that bring warm air from the West and the East.

Average temperatures range from about fifteen degrees to somewhere in the vicinity of thirty-five degrees Centigrade. As such, it never snows, and crops that would die elsewhere flourish in the tropical temperatures. Situated on a large island less than a mile from the mainland, Nami no Kuni enjoys a rich trading industry from countries both foreign and domestic. It is, however, completely worthless to the Shinobi countries, at least in terms of military value. There are no mountains, and as the land is essentially a broad plateau, it would be a fool's errand to try and build a ninja village. No hidden village would want to spend an exorbitant amount of money and time to try and fortify non-existent defenses.

So, despite the abundant wealth passing through, Nami no Kuni was essentially invulnerable to the threat of hostile takeover. What good is taking over such a place if you cannot defend your conquest from others seeking to do the same? As such, there were no native ninja, and no real need for them, either. My younger brother's mission in Wave almost ten years ago was essentially a fluke due to the late, unlamented shipping magnate, Gato's ambitions.

It was large, wealthy but not obnoxiously so, with an overwhelming majority of manual laborers and establishments for their needs and desires. Not a single place of business or pleasure that would hold any sort of allure for a ninja.

It was the perfect place to disappear. Having stolen a simple outfit consisting of rough workman's trousers and an overlarge sleeveless tunic from an unwary traveler's pack some days previous, I donned them and used a Doton Jutsu to carry my purloined and gender-inappropriate clothing to an earthy grave several meters below the surface.

A mild _Henge _to remove the deep grooves from my cheekbones and subtly alter my features later, and I was a simple, if unusually handsome, itinerant worker in search of a job. My cheekbones no longer protruded so obviously, and a week or two of slight overeating would make the _Henge _unnecessary. Looking at my reflection in a pond, I carefully smudged some dirt on my face, as well as getting it on my clothing and under my fingernails.

The open-toed boots were a little bit more durable than what the average worker would wear, but not so much as to attract undue attention. It was then that my ponytail caught my eye.

I'm not a person who typically falls prey to the sin of vanity. I am a very good-looking man, and I know this quite well. It does not serve to boost my ego in any capacity; it is merely a useful tool when dealing with women. Women generally respond favorably to an attractive man, and I have been told that I put the 'man' in 'manipulate'.

My one true vanity, though I am loathe to admit it, is my long hair. I'm not quite sure why, but I am very fond of it. It looks good on me, and it...well, I couldn't imagine myself without my ponytail. Which was precisely why it needed to go; it suited _Uchiha Itachi_ very well. It didn't, however, suit 'Imura Tachi, wandering laborer' at _all_.

They say that change is good for the soul, that it 'frees' one of subconscious dictates. But they never, _ever_, said anything about how painful it was to try and force yourself, already fully formed, into a whole new mold. And long hair was a deadly risk to the worker; it could tangle and be caught up by any number of contraptions. I slowly ran my fingers through the length of it one last time, and, grasping my ponytail firmly in my left hand, I roughly sliced upwards through the hair.

I winced as I felt my left hand come away, still gripping half a meter of my hair. What remained immediately fell forward, framing my cheekbones and doing even more to alter my appearance. Staring at my reflection in the pond, I realized that, as of this moment, Uchiha Itachi _was_ dead. I let my fingers open and watched as a light wind took hold of my hair, drawing it higher and higher into the air.

Rising, I turned and faced the city, whose rooftops radiated the heat of the sun, and set a lazy pace for what would hopefully be my new home.

As I studied the bridge slowly rising up to meet me, I considered my next move. Obviously, my highest priority was to convince the people of this town that I was not a ninja. No matter how well a country is regarded, ninja always carry with them the stigma of unfeeling assassins. This is with good reason, as it is mostly true. But it was critical that I arouse not one jot of suspicion in that direction. Curiosity, not enemy ninja, was my most dangerous foe right now, because people who are curious ask questions, and questions inevitably lead to answers of some sort. And if I was to stay here, I couldn't simply make an overly inquisitive individual 'disappear'. All that would do would be to stir up more questions, and may prompt, however unlikely, a hiring of ninja.

I drew close to the bridge, gaining me a cursory glance from the two men regulating the flow of traffic. A short line preceded me, and I cast a lazy eye over a bronze plaque set into the stone of the bridge itself while I waited.

_'The Great Naruto Bridge,'_ it read. _'Built in 370 CE by the super bridge-builder Sekkou Tazuna. This bridge is named after a Genin from the Hidden Village of Konoha whose will pushed the impoverished citizens under the threat of a hostile businessman to rise up, and with the help of Ninja Team 7, struck down Gato and his mercenary army. Here also fell, in the service of our country, the reformed missing-nins known as Momochi Zabuza and Haku.'_

I arched my eyebrows in interest. It seems that the Kyuubi Jinchuuriki was turning out to be quite the little hero. A mere seven years ago? He was all of twelve at the time. I had long known through my various sources that it had been Kakashi, however inadvertently, who had actually killed the ice-user Haku, and that Zabuza had succumbed to wounds decimating Gato's army in an attempt to get to the businessman himself. But that it had been _Uzumaki_, of all people, whose words and actions had been deemed worthy of remembrance was something of a surprise. Perhaps even more surprising were the kind words regarding two missing-nin who had at been antagonists to this country until just before their deaths.

"Name, origin, and purpose, please," one of the 'guards' said, obviously bored. I let my eyelids droop, half-shrugged my shoulders, and threw a lazy grin.

"Imura Tachi, originally from the Houen Protectorate of Hi no Kuni," I drawled. I spread my hands and arched my eyebrows. "Just looking for work, something I hear that you have plenty of."

The guard smiled. "That we do. Fire Country, huh? Ever been to Konoha?"

"Once or twice. Nice place, but all those ninja running about, popping up out of nowhere make me jumpy," I 'admitted', inwardly roaring with laughter at the irony. I jerked my head towards the plaque. "Hey, is that thing for real? A bridge named after a kid?" The other 'guard' intervened.

"Oh, yeah," he nodded. "Couldn't have been more than ten or so at the time. Short little blond guy, big mouth, and this ridiculous orange jumpsuit. See, we sent Sekkou-dono to Konoha for ninja to help us out with that Gato prick, only we were so poor we could only afford a C-class mission. So Sekkou-dono lied about the problems we had, so we only paid for a C-class, but he got attacked by a bunch of ninja under Gato. So the Jounin teacher guy was all for going back to Konoha and was all 'not my problem'. But Uzumaki – that's the kid's name – basically pushed for 'em to finish the mission they started, and somehow he won 'em over." The guard shook his head. "If he hadn't done that, we probably wouldn't be here right now."

I whistled. "Wow. Sounds like a good kid...for a nin, anyway." The guards laughed amiably, and the first one gave an easy grin, accompanied by a shrug.

"Yeah, he's alright. Be nice to see him again, though."

"Aw, he's probably busy with missions 'n' stuff," the other man interjected, to which his compatriot offered a shrug in return.

"Probably, yeah." Turning to me, he waved me on through. "You're good to go, and good luck."

I nodded my thanks and shoved my hands in my pockets as I sauntered my way across the bridge. It was a little past noon, and I paused to genuinely admire the sun shining on the waters. The bridge was peppered with travelers and locals, many of whom were fishing off of the side. I watched one pair of anglers, a young teenage boy with scruffy black hair and a thin redheaded slip of a girl fight with their newest catch.

"Give it some slack, dipshit!" the girl hollered. I was honestly amazed by the sheer volume she managed. She excitedly smacked the boy on the arm. "You're gonna snap the fucking line if you don't let that thing wear itself out!"

"Any more slack and the thing'll be able to swim to Konoha!" The boy snapped, his face red with the strain. "And I'm pretty sure your sister told you to stop swearing."

"Screw _that_," the girl shrieked excitedly, "just reel that fucker in! It's gotta be goddamn _huge_!"

Even amidst his struggling, the boy found time to roll his eyes in a well-practiced gesture. "Gods above," he panted, straining, "is food all you ever think about, Kyouko-chan?" His head snapped forward, propelled by her open hand.

"Food's fucking important shit," 'Kyouko' retorted. "And who the fuck said you could call me 'chan', dumbass?" I found myself amused by their byplay, and I loped over lazily to better watch the show.

And not a moment too soon. The fish on the line _must_ have been huge, because the line gave a sudden jerk, and Kyouko gave a aborted shriek as the boy was pulled over the side of the bridge. Or rather, he would have, had I not grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him back. Unbelievably, the boy was _still_ holding onto the rod!

"I'll take it from here, kid," I said, plucking the pole from his hands while simultaneously depositing him in the arms of his female companion, who proceeded to shriek curses of such vile implication at the boy that I was actually a little embarrassed.

I don't usually like kids, but in the two minutes I had observed him, this boy strangely brought to my mind Uzumaki Naruto. Especially the baleful pout he was giving to me as I slowly reeled in the fish that had nearly gotten the better of him. Vintage Uzumaki at age twelve. I hid a smirk and turned to regard 'our' catch. It was enormous; easily nine or ten kilos, and more than fifty centimeters long. By this time, the redhead had stopped spewing invectives and was content to simply punch his arm from time to time.

I offered the catch to the boy. "Very nicely done," I drawled with a lazy smirk, "aside from the 'almost-getting-killed' bit near the end." I watched, amused, as his cheeks reddened. "For future reference, try to avoid that." He grabbed the slightly struggling fish and threw it in an ice-chest already teeming with his other catches.

"Thanks for saving this idiot," Kyouko offered, sketching a polite, if a bit stiff, bow. She glared at her friend. "It would have been such a pain in the ass to explain to his mom, and I'd run the risk of missing my favorite TV show."

I laughed lightly. "Wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?" I considered my next course of action briefly, then mentally shrugged and thought 'fuck it'. I stuck out my hand towards the boy. I am _not_ Uchiha Itachi. "Tachi. Imura Tachi. I just got to Wave today."

Still embarrassed by his near-mishap, the black-haired boy wiped his hands on his pants and reluctantly took my proffered hand. "Sekkou Inari," he muttered. He jerked his head to indicate the girl. "An' this is Fuefuke Kyouko. Thanks."

I grinned at him, forcing myself not to simply nod my head and continue about my business. I am _not _Uchiha Itachi. "Hey, no problem. Just happened to be in the right place at the right time is all."

"Maybe," Kyouko said, punctuating her statement with another blow to Inari's arm. The boy winced, but bore it with a stoicism born of long familiarity. "But we're still in your debt." Suddenly, she wheeled on him, brown eyes flashing. "More to the point, asshole, _you're_ in his debt, and all you can do is say 'thanks'? Invite him for dinner, stupid!" Turning back to me, she shrugged.

"Sorry," she said. "Inari's socially retarded. Among other defects."

"Aw, shut up! I was gonna ask him anyway!" Inari yelled back at her. Eyes blazing, he glared at me. "You're invited for dinner an' stuff. Thanks for savin' my life," he growled.

I arched my eyebrows, amused. "Like I said, no problem." I purposely rubbed my chin. "Dinner, huh? Sounds pretty good." And it did. Ration bars, which were what I had been subsisting on for the past few weeks, were designed to be compact and nutrient rich. Consequently, they taste like shit-covered cardboard. The ninja on the run is ill-advised to start a cooking fire, as I had learned so irritatingly back in Yuki no Kuni, so the options available to him regarding comestibles are severely limited.

In fact, a home-cooked meal sounded _great_. As if already imagining the taste of real food again, my stomach growled very loudly. Kyouko giggled; it was a surprisingly girly sound coming from someone of her disposition. Inari didn't so much as blink.

"Alright, alright," he grumbled. "Come on, let's go get you some food." Kyouko shoved him forward, eliciting a half-hearted insult from the boy, before looking up at me with a brilliant grin.

"He'll be fine," she stated confidently. "You just wait and see. He'll thank you properly once he's cooled down."

I smiled, mentally planning my next move.

**From here on out, I'll be occasionally shifting between 'Itachi-diary' view and 'Iruka-third-person' view. I don't know Inari's real last name, so I'm using the word 'Sekkou', meaning 'stonemason'. Kyouko is strangely reminiscent of someone, isn't she...?**

**On a side note, I will say that this is probably the longest author's note I will write from now on, as in my previous incarnation of From Evil to Good, author's notes tended to run about 1200 words, which was bloating my word count unfairly.**

**For those of you who are annoyed with the 'un-Itachi-ish' way Itachi is acting, consider this: Itachi is a ninja. Not only a ninja, but a ninja of such skill and power as to be able to defeat Orochimaru, a legendary ninja. And as such a skilled ninja, infiltration would be something he'd _have_ to be good at, let alone _excel_ at. Itachi can 'disappear' at will, hiding in plain sight. He's been trained for it, and he's _damned good at it_, too.**

**He's consciously forcing himself to be another person entirely, and he's doing that by mixing and matching traits of those he's known, and his primary inspiration is Naruto, because Itachi _knows _Naruto. Itachi spent years studying Naruto; of course he's going to know how he acts. There's a bit of Asuma and Kakashi in there as well, with regards to laziness and being laid back, but mostly Naruto_. _Itachi is going through a transitional period, and he's purposely chosen to mimic a person who's personality is far removed from his own.**

**He's putting on a show because he plans on living amongst these people as this person, and he's doing it so well that he'll soon be able to 'trick' himself into almost believing it.**


	9. Chapter 9: Trepidations

**Chapter IX**

Sekkou Tsunami was a rather pretty dark-haired woman barely in her thirties who lived with her father and son in a small but well-furnished house near the business district of Wave. Initially, she was somewhat wary of her son bringing home an (apparent) itinerant worker, but after Kyouko (and Inari, although reluctantly) conveyed the manner in which we'd met, she was all smiles.

And, sweet Gods above, she was a heavenly cook. Not _quite_ as good as Kisame, but very close. Of course, Kisame tends to make thick, hearty, heavy fare, which is more my style, whilst Tsunami's meals seemed to lean towards the more delicate and feminine side of food. So the difference may just be due to my personal preferences. Still, the food was phenomenal and it was laid out in abundance.

The table was small and square, with deep scratches evident in the surface. I was somewhat surprised, as everything else in the house seemed to be new and of high quality. Tsunami must have noticed my quizzical examination, because she asked me what I found so interesting about the table.

"Oh, it's just that everything else here is new or well-cared for," I replied, playing at being hesitant. "But this table is old. And well-worn, too."

The old man sitting adjacent to his daughter took a large helping of oden. "Well, that's because that table has sentimental value. My Tsunami had a fellow interested in her, some years back when the town was poor, and he built that table himself as a kind of courtin' gift." He raised his glass somberly. "He was a good man, and the only father my grandson ever knew."

I watched with affected distress as a pained look crossed Tsunami's face, whose eyes immediately shot to Inari, whose face tightened. Kyouko, who was apparently a regular visitor and a good friend of the boy, laid a hand on his arm comfortingly.

"What happened?" I asked, only partially interested in the reply. Tsunami held up a hand to her father, who relaxed back into his seat and began to eat again.

"Kaiza and I made plans to get married, but Gato intervened. Kaiza was a very charismatic person, and he was inciting the village to hire ninja to get rid of Gato." Her eyes hardened. "Gato had him publicly executed."

"Which is when I went to Konoha to get the ninja, but too late for him," Tazuna finished, sadness suffusing his features. There was silence for several moments before the old man shook his head and grinned at me through his scraggly beard. "So what brings you here to Wave, Imura-san? Aside from saving my cute grandson, for which my daughter and especially Kyouko-chan here are verygrateful..." He giggled perversely, and I felt my eye twitch involuntarily as I was strongly reminded of the Gama Sennin Jiraiya.

The redhead turned red before using her chopsticks to catapult a lump of beef at the man's forehead, where it struck with a a wet _smack_.

"Keep your dirty mind to yourself, old geezer!" Kyouko all but shouted. I watched in amusement as the old man blinked before snatching the edible missile up in his utensils and wolfing it down. I chuckled.

"Oh, just looking for work is all," I replied casually. "I'm from the Hoenn Protectorate in Fire Country. I'm a blacksmith by trade," - this wasn't true, but not really a lie, either; I was a fair hand at smithy work, as Akatsuki nin had to be able to repair their own gear - "and Fire Country is getting more and more ninja-oriented." I paused to take a sip of water. "Which pretty much means that unless you want to move to Konoha itself or eke out a living repairing farm implements, a blacksmith's options are pretty limited."

"But don't ninja need weaponry?" Kyouko asked, interested. "Why the hell couldn't you sell your crap to them?"

"Because," I explained patiently, "ninja aren't going to leave the safety of their village just to get some new kunai. It's a convenience thing, and Hoenn is a good ninety kilometers from the village."

"Why not just move to Konoha itself?" Inari challenged, and I shrugged.

"Two reasons, kid; first off, I don't particularly like ninja. I'm sure that there are decent folk among 'em, but the whole 'hush-hush-twinkletoes-throat-cutting' thing sets me on edge, not to mention them popping up and disappearing wherever they damn well please. And keep in mind that the closer you live to a ninja village, the more likely you are to get caught in the crossfire of a battle or invasion." I stared pointedly at him. "Not my idea of a good time, thanks. So I figured I might try my luck here, a ninja-less village."

All the irony was making it difficult not to laugh my ass off as the two adults nodded; my reasons _were_ logical and even intelligently put for a civilian.

Inari, however, wasn't mollified quite so easily. He stood up and slapped his palms on the table as he glared at me. "There is _nothing_ wrong with ninja," he said tightly, "especially those from Konoha! My best friend, the guy who saved this town and my family, is a Leaf-nin. What gives you the right to say such things about them?"

_Quite a lot, actually, _I thought, privately amused, _considering that one of the world's most dangerous missing-nin was from Konoha, not to mention myself._

"Inari!" Tsunami barked as she herself stood up. "That is no way to speak to someone who has-"

"What, mom? Saved my life?" Inari challenged. The redheaded girl next to him covered her ears and stared at her plate, while the old man simply arched an eyebrow. "Big deal! My life isn't worth much in the long run." The boy jerked a thumb at me contemptuously. "He saved a life; Naruto saved an entire country!" The teen leveled a fierce gaze at me, clearly intent on proving a point.

I raised my eyes to meet his calmly. "Okay, kid, so you're passionate enough to raise a fuss and yell about what you believe in." The boy's head jerked once, too sharply to properly be called a nod. "But," I continued as I raised a helping of noodles to my lips, "what's your next move?"

Kyouko's eyes raised from her plate to focus on me, and I was cognizant of everyone else's doing the same. Tsunami's son, who had been so bold and loud just a moment earlier, looked lost.

"What do you mean, 'what's my next move'?" he asked, his ire lost in a confused haze.

I slurped up one last mouthful of my food before pushing the bowl away. "When you were little, and things didn't go your way, you cried, right? Now you're a teen, and you've got your own ideas about things." I waved my right hand vaguely. "Things you used to believe because of your family get pushed aside by the path you forge for yourself, and right now, your path is pointing at Konoha as a good place because they sent the ninja that saved this country."

The black-haired boy nodded. I shrugged at him.

"But just yelling at me isn't going to do any good, is it? You think that's how a man wins an argument?" I shook my head. "A _man_ will take his beliefs, find facts to back him up, and present them in a way that doesn't so much as prove the other _wrong_ as it is to convince him to believe that your way is the right way. It's called debating. And all your yelling is telling _me_ is that you don't have any real reason to believe that Konoha nin are good."

"All right then," Inari said, his hands fisted in determination, "I say that Konoha ninja are good people! They saved my mom, my grandpa, and me, and they saved our town from Gato! What do you say to that?"

I shrugged again. "I say that you're being foolish."

"Why you..." the teen snarled, before I held up my hand for silence.

"The thing you have to realize," I said sternly, aware of the stares that the others at the table were giving me, "is that just because you know one Konoha ninja, you don't know them all. I've _known_ ninja. I've sold my gear to them, passed them on the street, taken custom orders from 'em, and even hired a couple." I was technically lying, but each lie had a grain of truth in it. And I certainly sounded convincing, if I do say so myself. In a purely impulsive action, I leaned forward and poked the boy in the forehead in the exact same manner I used to do to Sasuke.

"Here's the bitter truth about ninja, kid – each one has three hearts."

Obviously confused by my strange statement, Inari only managed to croak out a strangled "Three...?"

"Don't interrupt. Three hearts. The first one is his public heart, the one he shows to the world. Then there's his private heart, the one he only shows to his friends and family. And then, guarded safely within layers and layers of protective armor, is his secret heart, the one he reveals only to himself." I stared at Inari pointedly.

"Ninja are a duplicitous bunch. They'll say one thing, and do another. They'll fight for you, then stab you in the back. They have their own reasons and their own motives. The rice they eat is grown on the bodies of those they've killed and watered with their blood. To be a ninja is to kill; no two ways about that."

Though taken aback by my calm tirade, Inari tried to muster up a defense for his idol, Uzumaki.

"Even if most ninja are like that, Naruto isn't!"

I scoffed openly at him, now meaning every word I said as I allowed a bitter smile to twist my lips. "The kanji for 'Shinobi' is 'Sword' over 'Heart'. And that tells you all about them – for the shinobi, the sword is _everything. _Do you really think 'Naruto' is any different?"

I don't know what I was really expecting from the boy; clearly, he was putting Uzumaki on a pedestal for whatever reasons. I didn't expect for him to agree. I didn't expect for him to acknowledge that my words, weighted with secret knowledge, held many measures of truth. But most of all, I didn't expect the remains of his dinner to be slung directly into my chest. With a startled cry, I leapt up and back.

"_You don't know a goddamn thing about Naruto!_" Inari roared at me, his face red with anger.

"Inari!" Surprisingly, it was Tazuna who reacted first, with a thunderous bellow that I had a hard time believing came from the old drunk. "Up to your room, **NOW**!"

Sending me a hate-filled glare of incredible intensity, the boy stomped upstairs and slammed the door so hard that the boom reverberated throughout the house. Kyouko shot to her feet, bowed hastily, and hurried after him. Tsunami rose to her feet, apologies pouring forth from her, but Tazuna's hand stopped her.

"Was that necessary, Imura?" he said, intentionally leaving off the honorific. "That boy has suffered so much, and it was only Naruto that brought about a positive change. Now you've challenged that belief."

"Blind faith is all well and good in a child," I snapped back, being completely honest for the first time since dinner had started, "but your grandson is not a child! He needs to think for himself, and he needs to learn to look deeper than the surface. His naiveté will get him hurt or killed someday if he doesn't learn to look underneath the underneath."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew it was a mistake to parrot Kakashi's favorite quote/mini-lecture. The bridge-builder and his daughter exchanged a very quick glance, executed with such speed that I would have missed it if I hadn't expected it. To my surprise, however, they seemed content to keep their curiosity to themselves.

"Be that as it may," Tazuna said gruffly, "it's not your place to break him of that faith. But then," he conceded reluctantly, "maybe he shouldn't have held onto it for this long in the first place. And that's our fault." He sighed and shook his head. "It's so hard to crush the dreams of those you love, even if you know it's for the best."

"Tazuna-san, I-"

"No, wait," Tsunami said quietly, her eyes downcast. "Ever since Naruto saved me, Inari has loved him like a brother. But as sweet a person as Naruto is, I could never make Inari understand why I was finally happy to see him go." Sad brown eyes raised to meet mine, and yet, Tsunami smiled. "I don't want Inari to grow up idolizing a way of life that embraces death so fondly, even if it was that very way which freed us. In a way, Imura-san, I hate you for breaking my son's heart. But my simple hate that is overshadowed by the gratitude I have for you in saying what we – what _I – _could not."

The honest thankfulness saturating her every action was not something I was accustomed to; at least, not directed towards me. I think I hated it.

"Tsunami-san, you don't have to do this," I managed awkwardly, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

"Father," the dark-haired woman said abruptly, completely ignoring my attempts at mollification, "please get some of Kaiza's clothes from the storage room. Imura-san's clothing must be cleaned at once."

"Tsunami-chan..." Tazuna whispered. Inari's mother raised her head at an imperious angle and locked gazes with me.

"I will prepare a guest room for Imura-san to stay in for the night," she declared, as if daring me to argue.

I have never backed down from a challenge. From certain failure, yes. From insurmountable odds, yes. I am, after all, bound by the Law of Logic. But when I looked in the passionate eyes of this weak, easily overpowered civilian woman, I found myself unable to deny her this. Accepting her 'invitation' was, after all, the only polite thing to do. Uchiha Itachi wouldn't have cared. Imura Tachi would.

_I am _not_ Uchiha Itachi!_

So I nodded.

**Author's Rant: For the love of god, people – the terms 'Sannin' and 'Sennin' are NOT interchangeable! 'Sannin' means 'Three Nin(ja)' and 'Sennin' means 'Hermit'! If I had 20p for every time some yokel switched the two, I could retire by now!**


	10. Chapter 10: Expectations

**Chapter X**

"_Hey, Orochimaru-sama! I finally figured out that jutsu!"_

"_Oh, really? Heh. Then won't you be good enough to show me?"_

"_Yeah yeah! And then you've gotta teach me something new!"_

"_Will I? Perhaps...or perhaps not. I suppose it will all depend on how well you perform the Sen'eijashu, won't it?"_

"_All right! I'm gonna give it my best shot! Here it goes...!"_

Umino Iruka sat on top of the gigantic stone head of the beloved Yondaime Hokage. From his vantage point overlooking the village, he could see the rooftops of every single building in Konoha. With the sun setting directly behind him, the ninja village was ablaze in golds and reds that weren't merely the results of the change in seasons.

Iruka's mind, however, wasn't on the splendors of the view. His troubled thoughts revolved around the name of a man who was considered only slightly less diabolical than the infamous Orochimaru; the 'Fallen Prodigy' of Konoha, Uchiha Itachi. The man who had slaughtered his entire clan save one merely to test his strength. The man whose ascent into legend had been nearly as meteoric as his fall into darkness. Or so it had seemed.

_All of it was...is...a lie?_ Clumps of brown hair poked out from between the fingers of Iruka's hands, fisted as they were in his hair as he struggled to come to grips with this most grievous paradigm shift.

Iruka had _known_ Itachi briefly, back in his hunter-nin days, when the tales had come trickling down through the ranks that a prodigy of unprecedented skill and power had been inducted into the ANBU corps at the tender age of thirteen. Iruka, still working to clear his name of 'disgrace' at the time, had been the one unanimously chosen to put the young upstart in his place.

It hadn't really been a fair battle; Iruka had three years of experience in the ANBU hunter division, while Itachi had been a newly-appointed Jounin. A talented one, but clearly no match for the last Umino. The scarred Chuunin had even been planning on taking it easy on the boy; after all, he know exactly what it was like to be looked on with distrust and suspicion. But then Itachi had made some cold crack about the 'no-talent know-nothing with no family'.

Iruka didn't particularly care what the snotty wet-behind-the-ears brat had to say about his skill. Iruka was one of only two ninja in Konoha at the time who could go toe-to-toe with Jiraiya, physically the strongest of the Sannin, and he knew it. And as for the insult to his intelligence? Easily dismissed; Iruka was well aware of his faults, and a lack of knowledge was not one of them.

But mocking the fact that the Kyuubi had taken his family? _That_ was something to take offense to. Iruka completely _annihilated_ the Uchiha, who had to spend a week convalescing under intensive chakra therapy, earning the scarred man a temporary suspension from duty, along with several off-the-record pats on the back.

In hindsight, it had almost seemed to make a macabre kind of sense that the cold, disturbingly detached boy had the potential and drive to eradicate his clan. He had been reviled, despised...hated as the worst kind of traitor.

Only now it was revealed that the single-minded ferocity which he had unleashed upon the proud bearers of the Sharingan had been done so on orders from the revered Sandaime Hokage himself. What the entire village had considered the most heinous crime had, in fact, been the staunchest form of patriotism ever seen within the walls of Konoha.

Uchiha Itachi was no traitor, and had willingly taken the burden of the mass execution and blame upon himself in order to protect his village. And now Iruka had to kill him.

Iruka didn't particularly _like_ Itachi, but with the revelation of the Uchiha prodigy's real motives behind his 'great crime', he found himself almost admiring the younger man.

Shaking his head, Iruka looked down at the object laying benignly by his right knee. The ceramic mask was cast in the stylized image of a wolf's head, an animal with whom he felt a solitary kinship with.

"Back in the Hunter-nin, hey?" he muttered, picking up the item and turning it over in his hands. "What an unfortunate thing that is. And for such a terrible reason..."

"Heyyy, Iruka-kun," a woman's voice purred from behind him. "You're all mopey. Does widdle Iwuka-chan need a hug?"

"Not the time for this, Anko," Iruka muttered as his girlfriend flopped down beside him, legs splayed indecently wide. The purple-haired woman snorted.

"Jesus, Umino," she teased, "you're certainly cheerful. Somebody shoot your dog, or are you just PMSing?" Throwing her arm around the scarred man's shoulders, she grinned madly. "Now, you can either sit here being a little bitch about whatever's got your panties in a bunch, or you can let me be the star in a one-man Kage Bunshin bukakke home video. I'll give you a minute."

"I'm being sent out into the field, Anko," Iruka said morosely. After a second or two's worth of stunned silence, he added reluctantly, "after Uchiha Itachi."

"The _fuck_? Aren't you supposed to be on permanent furlough from active duty?" Anko sputtered in disbelief.

Iruka snorted. "Supposed to be, yes," he said dryly. "But then, the council wishes what the council wishes. The bastards."

Anko stared at him searchingly for a moment, her gaze hard. After a few moments, her eyes narrowed in realization and her jaw clenched.

"It was Homura, wasn't it?" At Iruka's answering nod, she bared her teeth in an impressive scowl and shot to her feet. "I'll _kill_ that fuckhole!"

Iruka's hand grabbed her forearm and pulled her back down as quickly as she had risen. "Anko, I don't like this any more than you do. Less, even," the scarred man lectured, "but I am a ninja, and I'll do what I'm supposed to do."

"But _Itachi_?" Anko asked incredulously. "Why him? Why _you_?"

Iruka shrugged. "Short answers are because he's a risk, and because I'm strong enough to take him. The full story is something I can't talk about...ever." He shook his head. "I will tell you that things aren't exactly what they seem, though, and I'm not looking forward to this."

Anko fell silent, a startling rarity for her. It was almost five minutes before she spoke again. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow. First light, in fact."

Anko grimaced, annoyed. "Any way of getting out of it?" The look Iruka gave her in response was withering. "Guess not," she sighed.

"No," her old teammate confirmed dryly. Iruka looked out across the village, taking little pleasure in the magnificent sight.

"Anko," he said quietly, "I could very well die on this mission. Itachi's incredibly powerful, and he's a lot smarter than I am." He sighed. "I just want you to know-"

"Shhh," Anko said almost gently, placing her finger on his lips. "You tell me when you get back, alright?

Iruka met her gaze purposefully, as if trying to seek out the reason for her delay of what was so obvious to both of them. She stared right back at him unflinchingly, and he eventually caved.

"If that's the way you want it," he agreed, and she nodded somberly in response. The light from the sun was almost gone before Iruka pushed himself to his feet, his girlfriend mimicking him immediately.

He almost lost his balance though when she asked plaintively, "Can we fuck now?"

**Author's Note: Sorry that this chapter is so short, and that this author's note is so long.**

**I've had a few people ask me as to why I chose 'the dolphin' to make a secretly Sannin-level retired ANBU. This is for several reasons, only a few of which I will reveal here. Iruka is an extremely underdeveloped character in the Narutoverse; he really only appears in canon as a moderately competent, well-meaning pseudo-father-figure for Naruto. In essence, his one major accomplishment to date was to reaffirm Naruto's faith in Konoha by showing that he was cared for and trusted. Aside from that, Iruka is a blank slate. **

**(Frankly, I'm cynically positive that Kishimoto is going to kill him off. What other reason could there be for someone whom Naruto loves, yet is almost totally ignored in the story? Naruto's emotions are invested in Iruka as a son loves his father, but the lack of perceivable development prohibits most readers from sharing in that bond. Classic 'kill-the-beloved-mentor' setup!)**

**But it is _precisely_ that lack of definition that makes Iruka so versatile a character to play with. Of course, most fanfiction authors are completely unable to think past the 'slightly stern somewhat goofy Chuunin who's fond of Naruto' characterization. But _who is Iruka_? Who were his team-mates? Why is he never truly seen in combat (and his sole attack being a Naruto-esque head-butt)? Who was his teacher? What are his accomplishments?**

_**RANT ALERT**_

**I have to admit, though, that the idea of having Iruka be a heavy-combat specialist who was on Orochimaru's team is not original. I was inspired by a single fanfic, the name of which I cannot remember, nor can I remember the author. But that was the sole exception to the father-figure mould Iruka is constantly shoved into, if you don't count that obscene character-rape caricature that is the 'I-secretly-hate-Naruto-no-wait-he's-really-Kyuubi-the-bastard-fox' Iruka that is most often employed (rather badly, at that) for the sole purpose of getting Naruto out of Konoha as its implacable enemy and a dark angel of vengeance upon the country that scorned him when they should have (various author's suppositions, not my own) 'worshiped at the Altar of the Great Uzumaki, Child of the Beloved Fourth Hokage'.**

**Blech. **

**Now I'm all for divergences – hell, my favourite pairing for Naruto is to put him with _Tayuya_, of all people! Maybe I just like redheads...anyway. I'm fond of divergent stories, I can't stand Hinata pairings (with one or two truly fantastic exceptions), but there is a point where the chasm becomes so wide, so obscene, so ridiculous in its premises and conclusions that by all rights it should be labeled either as a parody or as an original concept altogether! Change, alter, shift, and split all you want, but keep it rational. If it is fanfiction, it must rest on a foundation already set forth by someone else, so hold to some basic canonical tenants!**

**Fact: Danzo is not the devil. Dark, yes. Pure, unadulterated evil? No. Stop making him the 'end boss', so to say. In the long run, he's just not that important!**

**Fact: Sasuke is an unrepentant bastard, and a filthy traitor. Yet I don't think he is irredeemable. Unlikely, not impossible. But there is no way in hell that Konoha would forgive him his treachery. I read a lot of fanfics that operate on the premise that the entire town is desperate for the acknowledgement of their last Uchiha. NOWHERE IN CANON DOES IT EVEN IMPLY THAT SASUKE IS SEEN AS SOME SORT OF GOLDEN CHILD! Yes, I'm sure he benefits from his connection to the Uchiha. But no, he is not some sort of civilian boy idol, so knock it off! Even more than Konoha reveres its vaunted bloodlines, it loathes those who would turn their backs on it.**

**Fact: Pre-time-skip Sakura is a twit. Plain and simple. Until she gets off of her boy-crazed arse and puts some effort into it, she is a waste of space. She, however, also has the drive and the will to break out of her self-imposed folly, so she's not completely hopeless. And for the record, she is fond of Naruto, maybe a little bit more than a team-mate, perhaps as a kind of 'adopted brother' of sorts, and even at the beginning, her 'hate' would be better deemed 'childish pique'. I'm not a big Sakura fan, but the next person who makes Sakura a Naruto-hating pitchfork wielding Sasuke-bint is going to get a hubcap shoved up their rectum sideways. At worst, she's immature, but definitely not evil!**

**Fact: Naruto is always going to be a bit of a duffer, no matter what. He's not book-smart, and it is highly unlikely that he ever will be, but he is the epitome of instinct. He believes in people, even those that have let him down. He doesn't have the sort of temperament that will let him become 'supercool-dress-in-black-assassinman-dude-thingy'. And yes, he's a physical powerhouse. Chakra-wise, I think he could take any two or three Kages on and win if he had adequate training. BUT HE IS NOT A NINJA GOD. He's always going to be some putrefyingly cheerful ray of marshmallowy sunshine with a salted noodle fixation. END OF STORY. Curb his temperament, push it in different directions, cast it in a different mould, anything, really, but STOP fucking it over! The foundation is already set, so stop trying to build on a lump of elephant dung.**

**Fact: If Naruto and Tsunade know each other, they are going to love each other. Just as Naruto (no matter the circumstances) is always going to be Naruto, so will Tsunade always be Tsunade. Notwithstanding the fact that her character is set in stone long before the series subjectively begins, Tsunade and Naruto have a genuine fondness for the other. Whether this is because of the tragedies that both have gone through, or whether it is simply because Naruto reminds Tsunade of her long-since-dead younger brother, Tsunade has latched onto the boy with a vengeance, and the affection-starved Naruto has done the same. I don't deny that this can be toyed with, tweaked, and altered into any particular degree desired, but the relationship _is_ there because Tsunade and Naruto are who they are. To sever the bonds or to deny them existence in the first place would necessitate the destruction of either of their spirits or the death of one or the other. Neither situation is desirable, and it is only under rare circumstances that any leeway towards this sort of action would be tolerated.**

_**RANT OVER**_

**I also have some people asking me as to whether Iruka is stronger than Gai. The answer is YES. But Gai still has a perfect mission record, while Iruka does not. Strength and skill is only part of the package, and Iruka's failing is planning and setup. It's part of the reason that he never made it past Chuunin. **


	11. Chapter 11: Implications

**Chapter XI**

I sighed in honest pleasure as I slipped into the steaming water. Closing my eyes, I rested my arms on the warm bricks of the furo and wriggled around, trying to submerge myself just a hair deeper into the near-scalding liquid.

"Good gods above," I groaned in appreciation, "I'd almost forgotten what this felt like!"

It had been almost a decade since I'd last been able to sample the soothing pleasures of an honest-to-god hot bath; since I'd left Konoha, in fact. Akatsuki wasn't terribly concerned with providing creature comforts. It was a para-military organization, after all.

As I was no longer a member, and seeing as the enemy of my enemy is a 'friend' (in deed if not in fact), I feel no shame or guilt in revealing the secrets of this mysterious group.

'Akatsuki' is, at its most basic, a secret government for Amegakure. In its infancy, it was nothing more than a mere handful of dissidents from Rain during the Second Great Shinobi Wars, some twenty or thirty years ago. The members felt wronged by the admittedly oppressive regime of Ame no Kuni at that time, and took up arms against the governing powers.

Hardly surprising, really; such incidents pepper the pages of history in all of the Elemental Countries. The government pisses some people off, and they take action. Action, and reaction – very basic tenets. In most of these cases, the anarchistic cell would be eradicated by the superior numbers and resources of the presiding powers.

Akatsuki was an exception.

Every single member was a Sannin-level ninja or even (frighteningly enough) greater. Against all odds, against all convention, against any mere mote of possibility...the dissidents prevailed.

Economically shocking, politically devastating, and historically unique. Amegakure shifted almost overnight from a typical Hidden Village to the most secretive and xenophobic country imaginable. The entire political infrastructure was annihilated, down to the lowliest pencil-pusher, and the borders shut tight. Everything in the country was under lockdown, every scrap of information dubbed 'most secret', from the greatest secrets of active ninja on down to the number of fishheads thrown out from the seediest restaurant.

In retrospect, it wasn't exactly the best way to keep a coup secret. I furrowed my brow in consideration briefly, more concerned with the heat seeping through my pores and massaging nearly a decade of aches and pains away. _After all,_ I reflected upon the organization's hostile takeover, _it's the tortoise that withdraws which draws the most attention._

After consolidating their stranglehold on Ame, Akatsuki then launched head-first into heavy recruitment. 'Heavy' being a purely relative term, anyway. They didn't advertise, and the only 'applicants' were S-class nukenins. If they wanted you, they'd approach you with an offering of the barest minimum of information. If you declined, they disappeared and you never saw them again, but hunter-nin would start having suspiciously good luck finding you.

'Subtle' is not a word often associated with the group, but if one takes into account the simple fact that Akatsuki could simply eliminate a nukenin who turned the offer down, the resulting consequences seem almost considerate by comparison.

Akatsuki, contrary to popular misconception, is not simply a group of nine S-class ninja. Such a small handful of people, regardless of how individually powerful they be, could not hope to operate a Hidden Village. Akatsuki is more akin to a ruling council, albeit one with primarily militaristic aims. But they don't really _run_ Hidden Rain; that's left to their puppet Kage, who is allowed a surprising amount of autonomy, provided he comes running when the figurative bell is rung.

Amegakure _is_ a functioning ninja village, after all, and so delegation has to occur – Akatsuki could not hope to accomplish any of their goals (capture the Bijuu, conquer the world, end war, blah blah blah) if they were being constantly bombarded with all the political maneuvering and subtle infighting that is part and parcel with operating a Hidden Village. So the Amekage's responsibility is to manage the country, while the leaders of the Akatsuki focus on collecting the Bijuu, only occasionally needing to pull their puppet's strings.

And operating Amegakure is a necessity. The village not only provides more than a mere veneer of respectability, but it is possessed of a number of services and goods that would be expensive or just plain unfeasible to outsource for the group.

I sank just a _bit_ lower into the soothing waters. Having a functioning village also provided protection, I reflected. While each actual Akatsuki elite was more than capable of demolishing a Kage or two, their numbers were few. And, for the most part, they are as mortal as the next nin. With the exception of Pein and Hidan, a single Kunai in the right place at the right time would kill any one of them. Unlikely, but within the realm of possibility.

_Creak_.

The almost-inaudible sound of wood bending beneath the weight of a body threw all my senses into high alert, and I slid out of the water as fast as I could while still remaining silent. Standing naked beside the door, my only weapon was a small wet towel that I twisted to form a crude garrote.

"Who's there?" I asked calmly. _Judging by the sound of the wood shifting, there's only one – a woman or a small man._

There was an almost audibly surprised silence for a brief moment. "It's Tsunami, Imura-san," the bridge-builder's daughter answered quietly through the door, "I have placed fresh clothing in the changing room for you."

I relaxed slightly. "Ah," I acknowledged. Then, because it was only polite, I finished with a somewhat forced "thank you".

"You're welcome." Her voice hesitated, but her curiosity was evident, even through the wood of the door. "Please excuse me, but how did you know I was here?"

"I heard you."

"You heard me?"

"I did."

"Pardon me, but I was not aware that I made any noise at all." I rolled my eyes in amusement and leaned back against the wall.

"You did. Very little, but I was trained-" _SHIT!_

"Trained?" Tsunami replied at once, a hint of suspicion leaking into her tone. "Trained for what?"

I had to cover, and _fast_. "Pardon me, I mis-spoke. I did not mean to say 'hyakuren', I meant to say 'hyakumanben'. I say sutras to relax, and listening to the sound of silence makes the clash of noise painfully evident," I lied smoothly. To my relief, the tension dissipated instantly.

"Very poetic, Imura-san," Tsunami teased, any trace of suspicion evaporating. "'Sound of silence', indeed! Are you a blacksmith or a wordsmith, I wonder?"

I felt the corners of my mouth twitch upwards in a slight grin. "Can't I be both?" I parried. I felt a slight tremor through the wood at my back as Tsunami mimicked me and rested her weight against the same divider I was leaning on.

"I, for one, find it difficult to imagine a man of iron and hammers having the ability to twist words so delicately," the black haired woman claimed.

I felt that any true blacksmith would find some small offense at such a statement, so I responded with assumed defensiveness. "We're more than brainless beaters of raw metals. Functionality and beauty can coexist quite harmoniously."

"Hmm, perhaps," Tsunami allowed. "But the manner in which you speak, even in your defense is rather eloquent. Maybe if you were an old man with many dozens of years of experience under your belt, I could understand. But you are so young," she pointed out, and I felt a small grin forming as I heard her whisper sotto voice, "and _very_ handsome."

"Wisdom is not only found in those of many years," I parried, not letting her know that her statement had been overheard, "it also comes from the mouths of children."

Tsunami laughed. "And pray tell, which one would you have me believe you to be?" She paused to let the point sink in for a moment. "I think it's best that you stick to swords and plowshares, o great and powerful blacksmith Imura; you may find that blades make better weapons than pretty words."

"Anyone can tell you that words can be far sharper than any edge, and cut more devilishly," I countered her good-natured mocking easily, and I heard her chuckle.

"So it's 'swords cut flesh, but words pierce hearts', is it?" Tsunami bantered playfully. "All right then, it's your victory. What do you claim for your prize?"

"Nothing at all," I said, mildly surprised that she had even heard of the esoteric word game, let alone knew how it was played. She was a very good opponent. I leaned my head back against the wood. It was smooth and polished from years of well-maintained wear. "For me, the debate is a prize unto itself." And I meant it. Despite all the cold-blooded sociopathic massacres hanging from the purse-string of my reputation like some sort of macabre prize, the greatest game of all wasn't death. It wasn't even psychological torture, though seeing what people truly are when their masks are stripped away is highly amusing.

It was the Art of the Word. _Godo._ The sheer power of words has never ceased to amaze me. With mere words, Konoha was founded. With mere words, her enemies were shamed. With mere words one can inspire another to the very heights of greatness or drown them in the depths of their own inherent madness.

Deidara claims that Art is transient, wispy, that it is a temporal thing and true art is only art for a brief moment, and all that is left afterward is the faint impression that it was once great. Conversely, Sasori maintains that art must endure, that if it does not withstand the tests of the ages that it cannot have truly been worth remembering.

Would that they have but asked me! Enlightenment lay within their grasp yet they did not ask for it because they clutched at the chaff while yet within sight of the granary. Art is not a static constant, nor a volatile instant. Art is a dance, a duel – thrust and parry and riposte and dodge and counter. Such versatility and adaptation is the soul of both argument and warfare. Unfortunately, such qualities are rarely found on the battlefield, where most are content with mere power and speed and planning.

Fools. Give me a rock and one good hand and I could annihilate an army, but leave me but my words and I will conquer the world.

"I will be going, then," Tsunami said, and I could _hear_ the smile in her tone. Concentrating, I could make out the soft padding of her feet as she exited the changing room. Involuntarily, I shivered. The beads of water on my skin had cooled during our discourse, sapping the pleasant heat that I had soaked in only minutes before. I briefly considered re-entering the furo, but decided against it.

Too much pleasure could, in fact, be a bad thing. A very bad thing, especially for the retiring Nukenin. Indulge too much, and you risk becoming lax. Become lax, and you will dull your senses. Dull your senses, and you will die. A to B equals C. The bastardized Pythagorean theorem holds true for more than mere maths.

So far, however, I rather liked Wave Country. It was quiet, ninja-free (save for myself, of course), fairly prosperous, and the few people I'd met were easygoing and gregarious, but not offensively so. And far more importantly, they did not pry. They possessed that singular sense of acceptance which is so vital to a ninja's secrecy – friendly apathy. It was a 'do not harm me or mine, and we shall get along famously, so do you fancy a drink or two' type of personable indifference.

I slipped into the clothes of a dead man and looked at the ceiling as I tied the obi around my narrow waist. Unbidden, a smile threatened my lips.

_Yeah, I could stay here._

**Author's Note: Sorry about the update delays. I was recently given apparent evidence of some contradictions in Itachi's character; namely, in the first Chapter, I made the statement that Itachi feels no regret over the murder of Shisui. Then, in Chapter 5, I did a complete 180 and said that Itachi was tormented over the decision. That same reader also pointed out to me that Itachi's actions and statements are strangely polarized – first acting in one way or claiming one thing, and then doing the opposite. As much as this may seem a rather serious blunder on my part...it isn't. I have a theory about Itachi's mental state that will not yet be revealed, but one which will come into play at a later time.**


	12. Chapter 12: Extrapolations

**Chapter XII**

Wolf sighed in exasperation as he ground the heel of his open-toed boot into the nose of his last opponent. There was a sharp pop as he twisted his foot slightly, and the current owner of said nose let out a muffled squeal of pain. The circle of civilians around him were staring in mild interest.

They'd seen it all before.

"For the record," he said flatly, "it's generally not a good idea for a common thief to try and shake-down an individual who is _obviously _a ninja." He scratched the side of his cheek in mock-contemplation. "Good lord, how many generations of inbreeding does it take to produce a prime example of mental retardation such as yourself? My money's on ten."

A low moan, a mix of pain and impotent rage, was his only answer. Behind his mask. Iruka rolled his eyes in annoyance. _Honestly, _he thought spitefully, _how stupid can people be? Robbing an ANBU in full daylight?_ With a vicious kick to the side, he sent his victim rolling away.

"Feel fortunate," he snapped, "that I don't have time to teach you the error of your ways in full." The conscious members of the ill-fated raiding party staggered to their feet and limped off as best as they were able, to light mocking applause from the onlookers.

Apparently, this particular group of bandits were well-known for their poor choices in targets. Iruka was vaguely aware of half-serious threats and castigations thrown by the would-be thieves, but he ignored it as he took to the rooftops of Yukigakure, heading for the large dome in the center of the Minor village. His entire outfit proclaimed that he was a ninja of Konoha – the dark browns and greens of the reluctant ANBU's uniform contrasted sharply with the white and light blue camouflage pattern of the native ninja.

_It's even a little ironic_, he thought to himself as he flew over the heads of the civilians below, _our relationship with Yuki no kuni. Fire and Ice, heh. Well, snow, really, but it's close enough, I think. Not quite an alliance, not quite a mutual apathy treaty. More like a 'you play nice and we'll play nice, but don't expect to be invited to a birthday party'._

"Where are you going, Wolf of the Leaf?" A woman's voice, polite if not exactly friendly, broke him out of his reflection, and his eyes cut to the left where a slender Snow ANBU in a falcon's mask matched him stride for stride, leap for leap.

He nodded towards the dome, still some kilometers distant. "The central dome, of course." He bent his knees and powered himself across a main street divide. He smiled beneath his mask as he sensed dismay and surprise from his companion.

Ninja were capable of a great many things, and could readily perform feats of physicality that seemingly defied logic. But in most cases, there were limits to what one could accomplish, even in the upper echelons of ninja. Iruka had just broken one.

It was, after all, almost sixty meters to the next rooftop.

Halfway across the divide, a flash of steel shot by him and slammed into the rooftop near where his projected landing zone was. A _twang_ was heard as the nearly invisible wire attached to the projectile was pulled taut abruptly, and he glanced back to see the female Yuki-nin using the line as a makeshift bridge.

_Inventive_, he thought appreciatively. He landed, and not a tile broke from the impact. He could have just let the ceramic tiles bear the brunt of his weight, but to do so would either speak of poor skill or be a sign of disrespect, and he had just demonstrated that he was nothing if not skilled. A mere moment later, his pursuer drew alongside him again, and when she spoke, her tone was a great deal more respectful.

He had, after all, just proven himself the more powerful of the two.

"What, may I ask, is your purpose here Wolf-san?"

"Tracking one of our missing-nin who recently passed through your borders and encountered one of your ninja." He nodded again towards the dome, much closer now but still distant. "I'd like to get whatever recent information on him that you've got."

"Ah, I see. I will accompany you, then." Iruka's eyebrows arched in surprise beneath his mask; while not unusual for foreign ninja to be accompanied to the Main Offices, usually they were designated by the border guards, who had waved him on by.

It was _highly _irregular for ninja to 'volunteer' themselves for the duty.

"I saw you deal with the Bold Six Bamboo Gang," the snow-ninja said suddenly.

"Oh, did you? Forgive me if I overstepped my bounds in my dealings, Hayabusa-san," Iruka responded, eyes forward. For some reason, he got the feeling that the woman was smirking behind her mask as she waved her hands dismissively.

"Believe me, I would have dealt much more harshly with them. They're mostly harmless, of course; minor thievery and the occasional shakedown, but a criminal is a criminal, ne?"

"I suppose so," Iruka admitted off-handedly. "Why did they go after a ninja, though? They live in a ninja village – didn't they know they were outclassed?"

The woman shrugged as they dropped down to the ground directly in front of the dome. "They're the _Bold _Six, not the Smart Six. When they get caught by ninja, they're smacked around a bit and let go with a warning," she remarked, "which is precisely what you did. Next time, though, I assure you that we'll be a little harsher. They're becoming less of an annoyance and more of an actual problem."

As they walked to the information counter, Wolf nodded. "I'm just glad I didn't cause an international incident. Leaf Hunter-nin 'Wolf' seeking information on nuke-nin per our country's agreement," he said, directing the latter statement to the young man behind the counter, handing him his papers. The man studied them carefully, going through several illusory release techniques systematically, searching for any hint of treachery. Iruka was impressed despite himself; either the man had been recently given this position or he took his job very seriously. The documents were then examined from several angles to determine whether they could be hiding seals. Finding nothing, the man relaxed very slightly.

"Okay, your papers look good. Who's the target?"

"Uchiha Itachi." He ignored the sudden intake of breath from both the secretary and the Yuki-nin who had accompanied him. "We understand that he passed through your eastern border over a week ago, had an altercation with an ANBU, and made off with her clothing."

Lips set in a thin line, the clerk gestured to the ninja who had accompanied Iruka. "Hayabusa-san can tell you everything; she was the one your target encountered." Turning to his countrywoman, he pointed down a side hallway. "Interrogation room eleven is available for your briefing. I trust you have something for us?" Iruka bit his thumb and swiped blood across a seal on his belt. With a poof and a cloud of smoke, a thin folder dropped onto the desk.

"Everything we have on Temma Gosunkugi, S-Class missing nin from Snow. Last update was nine days ago, when he was spotted by a returning jounin on the eastern border of Suna, heading northwest. Be careful; he seems to have picked up a partner – an unidentified female of about fifteen."

Nodding his thanks, the clerk busied himself with the file as Iruka followed the Falcon-masked ANBU to the aforementioned room. Shutting the door behind him, he spun one of the chairs around and sat down, sliding his mask up as he did so.

"I hate this thing," he said in response to her obvious surprise at the casual revelation of his face. "It's uncomfortable, heavy, and it keeps people from being able to look you in the eye." After a brief hesitation, the woman did the same.

Iruka looked at her appreciatively. She was rather pretty, with light brown hair cut fairly short and dark grey eyes set in a pleasantly tanned face.

"I was under the impression," Iruka began, breaking the silence that had been building with the loss of their masks, "that Itachi wasn't in the habit of letting those he encountered live."

"He tried to kill me," the woman said flatly. "He failed."

"Mm-hmm. He got your clothes somehow, and I doubt it's because he asked nicely."

"He made a mistake, one that I took advantage of to keep myself alive," she retorted, clearly intent on keeping the method of her survival a secret.

Iruka chuckled dryly. "I see that our alliance doesn't extend to the exchange of secrets. Fine; tell me what happened then. Please try to be as complete as you can, barring, of course, classified information."

The woman relaxed somewhat as she realized he wasn't going to press her very hard. "I encountered the Uchiha on the west side of the Forest of Ancient Pines. I hid myself in a tree almost twenty meters behind his campfire, but he detected me within minutes. Said he'd heard the melting drops of water my warming jutsu had created from the snow in the tree around me."

"Always did have good ears," Iruka muttered.

The snow-nin nodded her agreement with the statement and continued. "There was a brief discussion, during which he replaced himself with a Kage Bunshin and managed to get behind me. He almost killed me, and he obviously thought he had, because he stole my clothes." She hesitated for a moment, but continued. "He...did, however, put his clothes on me...like an exchange. I did not see which direction he took, but I don't believe that he went any further into my country."

"Is that all you have?" Iruka asked, frowning. _Surely there must be more!_ Dismay suffused his features as she answered in the affirmative.

"It was a very short confrontation," she explained, "four, maybe five minutes long." Seeing the disappointment and frustration on her allies face, she decided to help a little bit more. "I...think he went either north or south. He didn't come deeper into Yuki no Kuni, and he wouldn't have gone back to Iwa, would he?" At Iruka's single shake of the head, she finished. "And going south would have taken him through Grass and closer to Fire Country. In my opinion, he went north."

"Wonderful," Iruka sighed, closing his eyes. "A billion square kilometers to cover." He started to get up, but paused as a question came to him. "One moment, though. How did he try to kill you?"

"Tried to break my neck." Iruka frowned at this, something that the female ANBU noticed instantly. "I managed to fool him into believing that he had."

"Strange. Very strange," he mused. When the snow-nin asked for clarification, he replied, "it's very odd that he didn't try to use his Sharingan on you."

"Maybe he thought he didn't need it," she grumbled, an embarrassed flush appearing on her cheeks. "Which he didn't, damn him."

"That shouldn't have made any difference, actually. Itachi's used his eye-jutsu on opponents far less capable than you; what makes you so special?"

Grey eyes narrowed with thought. "I don't know. The thought hadn't even occurred to me, in fact. Would my being a woman have anything to do with it?"

Iruka shook his head. "I don't think so. Itachi _is_ a little gentler with women, but only so much that he'll kill them in ways that won't damage their appearance." A blackly amused snort was the only answer. "I _do_ know that Itachi's Sharingan is corrosive, and that it slowly robs him of sight when he uses its Mangekyou form, so that may be a consideration."

"Ah. That we know. You're right though," the unmasked Snow-nin admitted, "in retrospect, his actions are very strange." She rose to her feet, and Iruka did the same. "Good luck, Hunter."

"Thank you. I'm gonna need it."

**Sorry about the delay...this fic is not dead! This chapter was blocked for a month until last night (Sept. 16th), and then it just came like mad. I finished it at 1311 on the 17th.**


	13. Act I Finale: Mechanations

**Chapter XIII**

Kisame's broken body slammed into the hard stone floor with a wet thud, blood smearing over rock as he slid to a stop. Beaten and abused, he looked more like a recently-mutilated corpse as opposed to the deadly S-class nukenin he in truth was. Only the sound of his ragged, gasping breaths gave any indication that he was alive.

Footsteps, light and unconcerned, drew near to him. Pale eyes, unnaturally so, stared down at him. With a derogatory snap of the wrist, his tormentor flicked Kisame's blood from his fingertips.

"You...have failed me, Kisame," Pein said, his voice soft in volume yet rough in texture. The quiet didn't last long. "You-have-_FAILED! ME!_" Each word a violent projectile spewed forth from a cannon, digging deep into the body of their unresisting target.

The other Akatsuki remained deathly silent and still, dreading their Leader's unearthly temper. They had watched as the former Swordsman of the Mist had been utterly _decimated_ by their commander; torn apart like scraps of meat to wild dogs.

Kisame gave a sharp gasp as Pein, in rage, kicked him in the side. The only consolation he could find was that his ribs were already broken, so he didn't have to feel them snap again.

"FAILURE!" Pein bellowed, his normally impassive face contorted in a terrible rictus of demonic fury. "Deny it and deny it and deny it again, but you alone have put this organization's goals – _my goals_ – in jeopardy! Through your carelessness, through your sloth, through the _sheer incompetence_ you've suddenly become _infected_ with, you have almost _destroyed _us!"

The former Mist-nin's spittle was bloody, and it bubbled as he tried to defend himself. "Am...bushed...Ts'kiy'mi..."

The air suddenly grew viciously cold. "Ah, _yes_," Pein said in a tightly controlled voice, "_ambushed_. What a remarkably..._inconvenient_ thing." He knelt down on one knee, Rin'negan eyes flashing. "You fool," he hissed, "you incomparable fool! You are ninja, as Itachi is ninja. Did you not survive by anticipating the next hundred moves of your enemies? That you did not is _your _failure; bear it bravely or die of the shame. But I do not hold you accountable for that; it matters little."

"Why...pun...ish...?"

"Because, you remarkable idiot, you failed to acquire his _ring_," Pein said venomously. "Itachi's loss we can bear – but the _ring_! Would that you have died a thousand times and the ring been found, for I could count myself no poorer for it!" Suddenly, Pein's composure shattered again, and he slammed a fist into the stone by Kisame's head with an incoherent shriek of rage.

"Nine were made for you! Nine rings, nine bijuu! You simpleton, you've no _idea_ what you've lost! The rings are a conduit, an amplifier for the extractions! Each tied to the energies of a single bijuu, and each holding a domination over one of them! Orochimaru's treachery we could abide; he and his ring had served their purposes, but to lose the Ring that will bear the_ Kyuubi_!"

Pein grabbed Kisame's hair, matted with blood, and dragged the sharklike-man's face up to his own. "_The-Kyuubi-is-SAFE!" _He bellowed. "He is _completely immune _to us now! And we dare not even move against those that remain lest we imperil the Plan! As long as we don't have that ring, the Nine-tales can never be extracted from that little bastard, and that means we _fail_!" He released Kisame's head with a vicious shove, smashing the barely-alive ninja's head into the cobblestones.

And again...and again...and again. With each violent move, he shrieked "Fail! FAIL! _**FAIL!**_**" **Blood splashed at each sickening impact.

Finally, he released Kisame, an inch from death, and stood up. His boots left a bloody trail from his subordinate's broken body as he stalked towards the others, trembling in fury.

"Make sure, Zetsu" he hissed venomously, "that he survives to contemplate his inadequacies. Letting him expire now would be..." he paused mockingly, "_inexpedient_. Konan!" He snapped suddenly as the half-plant half-man ninja threw the much larger body of Kisame over his shoulder and carried him out. Twin trails of blood marred the crimsoned floor even further as the shark-like nin's feet dragged behind him.

Pein's blue-haired lover jerked a little at the name. Her face was paler than usual, sickened by the gory display. For the first time that she could remember, she could not bear to look Pein in the eyes. Shame at his actions poured off of her in waves, but the man opposite didn't notice.

"Yes, Leader?"

"You will order our puppet to withdraw all his ants from their places, and to halt all outbound missions at once." His eyes, if possible, became sharper . "Every available ninja is to be assigned a single mission."

"Yes, Leader," Konan whispered. "What mission is that to be?"

Teeth were bared in a cruel parody of a smile. "I want them to 'ferret' out the treacherous weasel, but not to engage. Oh, no...when we know where he is, then we will repay him for his duplicity."

Konan looked away; she'd always liked Itachi, and she'd mothered him more than either of the two would care to admit. She'd been genuinely shocked and saddened when Kisame had sent word of his sudden betrayal.

_I guess...I guess I didn't really know Itachi, then, _she thought sadly. Her eyes flickered to Pein for a brief instant. _I don't even know _this_ man anymore_. _Itachi is beyond Kisame's abilities, and yet this is his reward for his loyalty? _She swallowed. _I cannot abide this, but neither can I stop it. This...this is what we pledged to stop, isn't it? This unfeeling cruelty is not what I wished for!_

"We," Pein pronounced darkly, "will excise this tumor, this _disease_ ourselves. We will find this cancer, we will swoop down upon him, and we will crush him! We will take back what is ours and we will leave him screaming as we suck the living marrow from his filthy bones."

Konan shuddered in revulsion, but bowed and made a dignified retreat. Once she was safe in her room, she threw herself on the bed, feeling every one of her forty one years of age.

"This isn't right," she whispered, her head buried in her pillow. The scent of of small packet of lavender she hid in the pillow did nothing to soothe her nerves.

'Pein' had been with her nearly all of her life, even if he refused to acknowledge the years before he had become the Akatsuki Leader. She had loved him for years even as a young girl under Jiraiya's tutelage, when she, 'Pein', and Nagato had been filled with the desire to end all wars, forever.

They had seen unspeakable horrors during the so-called Second 'Great' Shinobi Wars; atrocities that still gave her nightmares. The three had sworn to become powerful; 'gods among the great' had been the surprisingly poetic aspiration of Nagato. They had sworn to become saviors, idols, _heroes_.

Armed with their unbeatable wills, no-one had been able to stand before them as they had rained righteous fury down upon the oppressive ruling powers of Ame. They had felt strong, _justified_, even. Their might had proven them right! They were right! They were good...!

"Now look at us," she whispered. "We've become the very thing we hated. Maybe...maybe, to live in hell, we had to become devils ourselves." She rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling, her blue hair spread out like a halo on her mattress. "But...I can bear it a little longer, I think. Hypocrisy is a heavy burned to labor under, but for the goal...I can go just a bit further." She heaved a sigh. "For eternal peace, I can suffer the all the destruction that must be."

She was silent for over ten minutes.

"Gods forgive me."

**END OF "DEFINITIONS" ARC**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Keep on watching for the "SUBLIMINAL" Arc, coming soon!**

_**CHALLENGE ALERT!**_

**Okay, people, here's one for you:**

**We're all aware of the habit of authors issuing 'challenges', that is to say, open-ended fanfiction throwdowns with certain restrictions. I believe that the infamous 'The Bet' sagas started by Metroanime featuring (primarily) Ranma of Rumiko Takahashi's 'Ranma ½' manga are among the most well-known.**

**Sadly, most of the 'The Bet' authors have disappeared over the seven years I've been reading and writing fanfiction. Anyway, my challenge is this:**

**In 99.5 per cent of all Naruto fanfics, Iruka is the one to show Naruto that he is cared for by someone besides the Hokage (and how deep _that_ relationship really happens to be is open for debate, though not the fact that it exists; that Naruto calls the Hokage 'jiji' with little more than a familiar eye-roll as a response is indicative of some sort of casual comfortable relationship). And here's the part that always has me wondering 'what if?':**

**What if _Mizuki_ had done it first? I wholly plan on writing a 'NobleMizuki' fic, but not until this one is finished, and frankly that's not going to happen for a _long_ while.**

**In the meantime, I've only read one (sadly incomplete and long since abandoned) fic that has Mizuki even being confronted by the Hokage and ordered to really give Naruto a chance. In that fic, he starts to come around before the damned thing cuts off.**

**Mizuki is canon Naruto's first antagonist, and the person who reveals the 'dreaded secret' to the boy. I'm not asking that Mizuki and Iruka merely swap roles; only that Mizuki either repent or adopt a similar, if darker, role to canon Iruka. **

**So that's my challenge. Just a couple of statements, first...**

**Don't make it all about Mizuki. Naruto's the star!**

**No killing off Mizuki until he's had a change to conclusively alter Naruto's perceptions. (How and to what are up to you, as long as Mizuki stays a Leaf-nin)**

**No Naruto/Mizuki pairings. In fact, no gay pairings at all. Poofters make me ill. If you _must _make it romance, then NaruHarem is acceptable, but is going to trigger some mocking and sniggering behind your metaphorical backs. Oh, and if you make it NaruHina or NaruSaku, you'd better be a pretty damned good writer, 'cause those two just _piss me off_.**

**Use proper English! I don't give a toss how original your idea is, if you can't put it down on paper coherently, you don't deserve to write.**

**No one-shots allowed! I want to see some long-ass shit.**

**Right then – go forth and _write!_**


	14. Act II Overture: Unveiled

**Chapter I**

_Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!_

Tachi flicked his head to one side, sending beads of sweat flying from the ends of his hair. Some of them fell on the red-hot iron he was currently beating the snot out of, and they sizzled away into nothing almost instantly. With a deft twist of his wrist, he spun the burning metal within the grip of his tongs and expertly caught it again. The hammer in his hand rose and fell with short, powerful blows, shaping the metal however he wished. In the middle of an upswing, he paused and cast a critical eye at the metal. It wasn't hot enough.

The blacksmith dropped the hammer, sped through several seals before ending on 'half-horse', and called out:

"_Katon: Hirenmen!_" With that, a steady stream of fire fell from his lips onto the cooling metal, swiftly turning it from dull- to bright-red again. The glow it gave off lent the blacksmith's face a hellish hue as his right foot caught the falling hammer and effortlessly flipped it back into his waiting palm. He hammered a few more times before his ears caught the sound of bells jingling.

It was his front door.

"I'll be up in a minute!" he called. He dunked the metal bar into a barrel of water, sending gouts of steam billowing into the air of the forge. When it had cooled enough (a rather quick process), he pulled it out and laid it across a rack with similar bars. Grabbing a towel, Imura Tachi roughly wiped his face and went out to his storefront to greet his customer.

He grinned lazily as he recognized her. "Morning, Tanaka-san," he drawled. "How are those gates holding up?"

"Well enough, thank you, Tachi-kun," the older woman said pleasantly. "Very well, indeed." Her greying hair shimmered in the early morning sunlight as she cast her eye around the small smithy. "Well, that's new," she said in mild surprise, pointing out a pair of gleaming utilitarian field-knives.

"Oh, you like them?"

"Not at all. Things of that sort make me nervous," the older woman said flatly, and Tachi laughed at her candor as he pushed his chin-length hair out of his eyes.

"I love the way you say what you mean, lady Tanaka," he admitted cheerfully, "it's a lovely way of talking from a lovely lady." The old woman blushed.

"Oh, Imura-san," she said demurely, "I'm a married woman! What would my husband think if he heard you?"

Tachi put a finger to his lips in mock contemplation. A wicked gleam sparkled in his eyes as he guessed, "...'If he takes her, I'll finally have some peace'?" The woman let out a shriek of playful indignation and swatted the blacksmith, her fingers coming away stained with soot.

"Shame on you, you naughty boy!" She teased. Imura grinned insincerely as he apologized, then leaned on his counter with one arm as his grin relaxed into casual indifference.

"So, am I to assume that there are issues with my shipment?"

"Ah, and on to business so inelegantly," the woman sighed. Imura chewed thoughtfully on his right thumbnail before pointing out that he was, after all, a humble blacksmith. The remark garnered a bark of laughter from the grey-haired woman.

"Humble blacksmith, indeed! You're humble in neither skill nor deed." Her face, lined with many years, tightened. "To the point, though; we are having difficulties moving the quantities of raw steel and charcoal that you require."

Imura's lips curved down in mild annoyance. "That," he pointed out, "wasn't an issue last month. What the hell is Kusa's problem _now_?"

Tanaka smiled thinly but said nothing. Imura's face grew red in irritation.

"The _tariffs_?! They're getting pissy about that _again_?!"

"Once again," The woman nodded, "your intuition is impressive. They want twenty-five percent now." In a violent gesture, the blacksmith threw his hands up in disgust.

"Merciful gods," he swore, "I'm already paying fifteen percent on those damned imports, which is out-and-out extortion, and those little pipe-sniffing shitwits want more? Fuck 'em!" He hawked and spat off to the side. The merchant surreptitiously wrinkled her nose in mild disgust at the crude action.

Tanaka was well-acquainted with the coarseness of the metalworker, but she still winced as he muttered a particularly nasty epithet regarding the Grass Lord's personal hygiene, sexual orientation, and the likelihood of common farm animals being in his immediate ancestry.

"So," she said, "what would you have me do?"

Imura turned towards the merchant. "Tell Grass that they'll have twenty-five percent of nothing; from now on, I want you to ignore all their offers _no matter how low. _I'm not doing business with them. EVER." He snorted. "They really think it'll bother me to buy from Fire Country just because it's farther away? Let 'em rot. I want you to get me an immediate shipment from Konoha, and for every three days you cut off in transit before the end of next week, you'll earn an extra percentage point."

Tanaka's black eyes glittered with greed at the prospect, before Imura noticed and shut her down.

"And absolutely NO ninja, or you can consider our contract terminated."

The grey-haired woman shrugged, disappointed but hardly surprised. The blacksmith was well-known throughout Nami no Kuni for his unusually strong contempt for the shadow warriors, and had on two separate occasions thrown customers out for arguing with him on the point. And Wave was still growing, still expanding, and the citizens could ill-afford to alienate their newest and best blacksmith.

"Very well," Tanaka huffed. "But I still don't understand why you're so adamant about that, especially when a team of Genin could have you your supplies in half a week."

The blacksmith shrugged. "Hey, I got my reasons. One of which," he grinned, "is to not have to pay you any more than I have to." They both laughed. "Now, is there anything else I can do for you, or can I go back to beating the shit out of big pieces of metal?"

"Ah, beat away, beat away," Tanaka chortled. "I have errands to run – the grandkids are coming over later today – and I need all the time I can get. I'll contact you when the shipment is en route."

Imura nodded politely. "Alright, then. Back to work...or maybe not," he concluded wryly as the bells on his door jingled again. He sighed in mock-exasperation. "Gods help me!"

* * *

Senjuu Tsunade, Godaime Hokage was a fifty-seven year-old woman who, thanks to what was probably the world's greatest genjutsu, went through life every day looking, acting, and _feeling_ less than half her true age.

The illusion worked on an impressive number of levels, one of which was that her body even thought that it was young...to a degree that some might consider unpleasant.

Ergo, menstruation.

And while Tsunade's fame was based primarily on her 'Legendary Sucker' moniker, her Sannin status, and her beauty (in that order), equally well-known (and feared) was her temper. Mercurial at best, bipolar at worst, Tsunade's mood swings were a psychologist's worst nightmares.

Adding an actual, functional menstrual cycle on top of her already fearsome personality...

Well, at least she hadn't killed any subordinates. Yet. But she was aching, tired, cranky, out of saké, and then _this _gets thrown at her...! Suffice to say, the Fifth Kage of Konoha only _slightly_ below 'homicidal' at the moment.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't have you both arrested and publicly executed for this _blatantly _mutinous act." Amber eyes were narrowed and the full burning fury behind them aimed directly at her deceased teacher's team-mates.

Koharu coughed delicately into her fist. "Hokage-sama," she said soothingly, "I realize that on the surface, our actions seem to be, shall we say...'challenging'...of your authority."

"'On the surface'...? '_Challenging'_?" Tsunade mocked. "Utatane, not just the surface, but as far down as I dig this seems to be nothing less than an attempt to completely undermine the authority of Hokage." Her hands were clasped in front of her face, and only the whiteness of her knuckles spoke of the sheer effort she was putting forth to _not_ slaughter the two advisors.

"Then you have not dug deeply enough," Homura said calmly, "or more likely, you have overlooked something."

"Shut it," Tsunade snapped fiercely, and the older man fell silent. The younger woman took several deep calming breaths through her nose, exhaling slowly. "The two of you _conspired_ to send one of _my_ ninja, a chuunin, and an academy instructor _on permanent furlough from active duty_, no less, after the _single_ most DANGEROUS nukenin from our country." Placing her hands, trembling with barely-restrained rage, flat on the top of her desk, the Hokage slowly rose to her feet.

"And to top it all off," she hissed venomously, "you did it all without consulting _me_."

"Ah, but Hokage-sa-"

"If you so much as utter another word without my permission, I will have your heads rolled through the center of Konoha," Tsunade said grimly.

Instant silence.

Teeth were bared in anger as the Hokage spoke through jaws tightly clenched.

"The first I knew of this was when I received a coded message from Iruka," she said, plucking the paper from her desk and waving the incriminating evidence around, "giving a quarterly progress report on his mission, in which he apologizes for being 'presently unsuccessful' in his 'aspirations to eliminate the threat of Uchiha Itachi to Konoha and Hi no Kuni'. Imagine the surprise I felt," she continued, crushing the paper in her fist, "when I read this for the first time. I thought it was a prank, at first. I thought that someone simply had a sick sense of humor. Because I _knew_ that I had never assigned _anyone_, let alone a fucking _schoolteacher,_ the mission of killing an S-class missing-nin."

She crossed her arms and sat on the edge of her desk, glaring down at the older council members. "I'm sure you can _also_ imagine my surprise when I went through the mission catalogues and discovered an assignment for just such a mission. And what else did I see? I saw that it had been issued with 'Imperative' status. Iruka couldn't refuse it, could he?"

Tsunade tapped her forefinger to her lips in mock-contemplation. "Now, when I saw this, I was a little confused. Surely my two _trusted_ advisors wouldn't be stupid enough to send a mere chuunin after the youngest ANBU in our history. Even on paper, there was no chance of success. No, there had to be something more, something I was missing. Iruka's only 'failing' is being a student of Orochimaru. But he's been forgiven by the village, and is pretty well respected. So some sort of punishment for his past isn't the answer. And then," she said coldly, "it struck me. You see, I may be a drunk and the worst gambler in history, but I'm not stupid. I do my homework. Do you know the thought that came into my mind?" The two older shinobi shook their heads, and the blonde Hokage laughed bitterly as she spread her arms wide. "It wasn't about Iruka at all, was it? I wasn't looking at his pros and cons through idiot-colored glasses, was I?"

Koharu and Homura shared a glance of honest confusion before returning their attention to the irate Hokage before them.

Tsunade sneered. "No, it's not about _Iruka..._it's about _Naruto_." She spat off to the side, the saliva beading on the carpet of her office. "Every single damn day, the utter stupidity of this village makes me wonder why I even bother to protect it. Iruka is precious to Naruto, so by giving him a suicide mission, you're hurting Naruto." She leaned forward menacingly. "And frankly, the only reason you two are still alive is because Iruka's 'failure' to find Itachi means that _he_ is still alive. So now that I'm done, I wonder what the two of you could _possibly_ say to cause me to let you live to see tomorrow."

Eyes widened in understanding.

"As you say, Hokage-sama," Homura grunted, "you are not stupid. What you _are, _however, is somewhat ill-informed. Or rather," he hastened to explain, taking note of the Hokage's rapidly darkening expression, "I should say that you are missing some key pieces of information."

"Enlighten me, then."

"Firstly, you are incorrect in your assumption regarding our attitudes towards the Kyuubi's gaoler," Koharu said gently. "Really; while neither of us particularly _like_ the boy, we are wholly confident in the Yondaime's sealing skills."

"The boy is neither the Nine-Tails nor is he particularly influenced by it," Homura added, as if stating a blatantly obvious fact. "He is, however, annoying as fuck."

Despite her anger, Tsunade couldn't silence the amused snort that broke free, and a great deal of tension evaporated with it.

Homura shifted in his chair, disliking the way the wood lay against his aged spine. "Iruka is also far more competent a ninja than he might appear at first glance...or even after several. You know that he was a student of Orochimaru's. Are you also aware of his Curse Seal?"

"The _Shinkai, _or 'Deep-Sea' Seal," Tsunade muttered. "According to Iruka's medical reports, it's a failed prototype seal; one that reacts to the adrenaline and chakra found in combat, and not to the will. It's single-stage, unsuppressible either by the sealer or the victim, and causes immense pain and temporary, though very real, mental instability that gets progressively worse as long as the seal is active, though the effects vanish as soon as the seal recedes." Tsunade shook her head. "It's a complete failure."

"No, it is not," Homura countered. "Do not misunderstand; all of those effects are quite true, and it is a very real danger. But the medical reports are somewhat...selectively inaccurate. Did you not find it strange that the medical report made no mention of the benefits?"

Tsunade blinked, interested in spite of herself. "I had assumed that there were little to none, considering it was a prototype..."

Koharu chuckled dryly. "Oh, there are benefits, Tsunade-chan. Benefits both great and terrible. Are you also aware that the chakra it grants puts Iruka very nearly on the level of a Tailed Beast himself?"

Amber eyes widened. "That's simply impossible," Tsunade countered. "That much raw chakra would kill him instantly!"

"Ah, but don't you already know a ninja who has more chakra than what might be considered safe?"

"Naruto is a special case, as you well know," Tsunade said dismissively. "Besides, the Kyuubi was sealed into him as a baby. His chakra coils had more than enough time..." Her voice trailed off, and her eyes grew wider.

Epiphany.

"The younger a child is, the more malleable their chakra coils," Koharu finished. "Iruka was given the seal when he was eleven, just months before his coils had 'solidified', to put it in layman's terms."

"Which is why the seal is so often fatal," Tsunade breathed. "But he can't control it?"

"Only to a certain extent," Homura acknowledged. "Enough to keep it inactive, but not enough to bend it to his will." The man sighed. "Which is truly unfortunate."

Tsunade frowned. "I'm still not understanding why you seem to be confident in Iruka's ability to complete this mission."

"Iruka," the old man said, "is an ex-Hunter-nin." This revelation surprised Tsunade.

"Him?"

"Indeed."

"There are nothing in his records-" Tsunade cut herself off, cursing her own foolishness. "Of course, there never are, are there?"

The older woman smiled ingratiatingly. "Of course not."

Tsunade motioned for silence as she silently contemplated this newest tidbit. It was several moments before she spoke again, and when she did, it was with none of the fury that she had begun the evening with. "Dare I ask what his combat skills rate?"

Homura coughed in amusement. "Hokage-sama," he said dryly, "if it were between you and him, even without the seal I would go so far as to call you 'hopelessly outclassed'."

Tsunade sighed in amazement. "By the gods. And he's a chuunin why?"

Homura shrugged. "Mediocre strategy skills. He's not a leader, he's a weapon. Aim him at whatever needs to die, and it'll die."

"So, on one end," Tsunade mused, "we have a Sannin-level Nukenin who slaughtered his whole family, and on the other is an unstable Sannin-stomping Hunter-nin."

"Crudely put, but still accurate."

Tsunade crossed her legs as she sat back on her desk. "I think I understand a lot more now," she admitted, "and I'm especially glad that this wasn't done out of hatred towards Naruto. But there's still one thing that's bothering me."

Homura arched an eyebrow as his female counterpart did the same. "Oh?" Koharu asked mildly. "And what would that be, Hokage-sama?"

"Why did you subvert my authority on this matter? That," Tsunade stated bluntly, "is a very real act of mutiny."

This time, it was the old man who spoke. "Because you didn't have access to all the facts, and you still don't."

"And what facts, pray tell, am I missing that would make your insubordination seem reasonable?"

Homura sighed. "It is the duty of the Council's to issue Nukenin classifications and warrants, is it not?"

"They have that power, yes," Tsunade agreed. "But Itachi has been a declared missing-nin for over a decade."

"No, he has not."

Tsunade cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes in confusion. "You're not going senile on me, are you, old man??" she asked doubtfully. "He's been in the Bingo Book for almost twelve years."

"While we are both old, Hokage-sama," Koharu chuckled as her team-mate huffed in irritation, "You'll find that we are quite 'with it', mentally if not exactly physically." Grey eyebrows arched in mild amusement. "You'll also do well to remember that not everything is as it seems. Itachi has indeed been in the Bingo Book for many years, and yet there hasn't been a single Hunter-nin assigned to eliminate him until now." The older woman leaned forward. "Why do you think that is?"

"Because he's Kage-level," theorized Tsunade, "with that damned doujutsu of his."

"A true statement, but not the reason," Kohura corrected. "Uchiha Itachi is well-known as a missing-nin; oddly enough, until a few months ago, his name was not on the list of available targets for the Hunters."

"I still don't-" A sharp gesture from Homura interrupted her.

"Itachi has been undercover for the last twelve years," the old man said tersely. Koharu threw her companion a look of mild disapproval, unhappy that her game had been spoiled. "On the orders of Sandaime Hokage, he infiltrated the terrorist organization known as 'Akatsuki', where he has remained until recently."

"Bullshit!"

"Not at all."

"You really mean to tell me that the extermination of the Uchiha clan was just so the old man could put a spy in the ranks of Akatsuki?" The younger woman glowered at the two shinobi in front of her. "Sarutobi would _never_ have sacrificed so many people so cavalierly!"

"Of course not," Koharu reassured the irate Hokage. "That wasn't the reason at all. It was, if I may put it crudely, a 'nice side-effect'."

"The Uchiha clan," the grey-haired man said roughly, "had grown arrogant. They were routinely proclaiming themselves as the 'strongest of the leaf', and their actions had been causing some concern for some time. Clan meetings took place with unsettling regularity, and the Miltary Police, almost entirely Uchiha, had started making questionable arrests, and Uchiha started having suspiciously good fortune in civil trials. Something was clearly going on, but according to Village Law, the Uchiha clan meetings were closed sessions. We _had_ to get someone inside. Then Itachi, who was almost infamous at the time for his apathy to the 'clan mentality' of the Uchiha, entered ANBU." A dark smirk split the craggy, bewhiskered features of the octogenarian.

"We had our insider. As a new ANBU, Itachi would be considered to be in a prime location for relations with the village, and would be allowed to attend the Clan meetings as a representative. The next week, Itachi brought this terrible news before the Hokage: _'The Uchiha are planning to eliminate the Hokage and the Council'_, he said, _'in order to assume power themselves'_. We were immediately summoned, and Itachi repeated these statements before us."

"A coup..." Tsunade whispered, and the pair nodded grimly.

"Naturally, we couldn't bring this before the council; the Uchiha were well-regarded at the time, and any accusations would fall flat for lack of conclusive evidence. But suddenly, their actions made a disturbing kind of sense. Everything fell into place, and for the first time in Konoha history, we had a very large, very real internal crisis on our hands. Even worse, we learned that we had mere days before the first domino was to fall. Of course, not every Uchiha was guilty, but we couldn't take the chance at letting one slip through the net."

"Thus the elimination of the Uchiha clan," the blonde breathed. "A panicked, genocidal move to ensure the stability of the village. It was overkill. And Sasuke was the only one who Itachi was utterly convinced of innocence, and he was spared." Homura nodded.

"Quite. Of course, without an official investigation and an overwhelming amount of proof, Sarutobi would have had a full-scale uprising on his hands..."

"...so Itachi took the burden of blame on himself and fled under the stigma of a murdering psychopath. Wheels within wheels within wheels." Feeling drained, Tsunade put her hand to her forehead. "Gods above. Jiraiya always claimed to have a contact within the Akatsuki's inner circle, but to have it be Itachi...!"

"Three months ago," Homura stated, winding down, "we received a message by a crow summon; Itachi's forte, if you'll recall. On it were seven words: _'I'm retiring. Sorry, and good luck. Itachi'_. In all of our planning, in every strategy, we never accounted for such a bizarre action. And despite being out of the village for more than a decade, he still has knowledge that, for the good of Konoha, we _cannot_ allow even the _possibility_ of dissemination."

"For the safety of this country," Koharu interjected, "Itachi must die."

Tsunade closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. After a tense few minutes, she nodded.

"Itachi must die."

_**Author's Note:**_** You would not **_**believe **_**how many times I rewrote this chapter. Blame Halo 2, Ocarina of Time: Master Quest, and 25-year-old MacAllan scotch for the rest.**


	15. Chapter 2: Undercover

**Chapter II**

My home in Nami no Kuni was a rather simple affair, unassuming and unpretentious. A single story building entertaining not one architectural meandering nor artistic flights of fancy, it was situated not five minute's walking time from the very centre of the thriving town.

I'd moved in a little less than a week ago, having defaulted on the three-month lease of the apartment I'd occupied. It had cost me a little more than I had wanted, but I wanted a place of uninterrupted quiet...something the apartment complex most certainly was _not_.

And despite the brevity of my occupancy in my new home, what little I owned was already neatly arranged and put away. Call it a mania for cleanliness or O.C.D.; whatever. But I simply could not bring myself to be untidy.

Some might be inclined to call the house humble, and on particularly nasty days, it could even be considered unattractive. To me, it was modest and serviceable, maintaining a modicum of comfort, as well as projecting a subtle aura of efficient minimalism.

It was a house that could easily belong to a somewhat solitary blacksmith. It was a house that was quite proud of its lack of ornamentation.

It was a house that I still owed almost thirty thousand _ryo_ on, goddammit!

The vast majority of my money had been invested in the purchase of the storefront and materials for my trade, and let me endeavour to stress the fact that buying raw iron and coal by the ton is by no means inexpensive, not to mention shipping from another country, _and _paying a middleman (or rather, middle_woman, _in my case) to ensure that the right palms were greased! It was in just such a manner that I divested myself of a healthy portion of my ill-gotten gains, as it were. 

I was by no means poor, however. A modest amount, around seven thousand _ryo, _was currently sitting in a local bank, a respectable but by no means unusual sum for a good blacksmith, and about thirty times that amount was still sealed in a certain scroll that I had then sealed into another scroll, which was then placed in a ring covered in a potent contact poison, which itself was sealed into a knot in the wood of a chest (which was empty save for a rather devastating pre-rendered deadly _Raiton_ _jutsu_, primed to go off when the chest was opened), and the chest was sealed into the bone of my own left kneecap.

No one will notice 'one more scar' on a body peppered with them. I was somewhat frustrated with my inability to use the funds that my lifestyle had gifted me with, but to use even a fraction of the amount left would cause people to wonder where such a bounty came from, and as I mentioned before, questions are my most deadly adversary right now.

So I'm a little paranoid. Not to mention rather proud of myself for the sealing accomplishment; sealing arts are tremendously difficult to master, and are far less forgiving than most of the other disciplines in a shinobi's repertoire. The first rule of sealing, in fact, is "Never attempt to seal a sealed item within another seal". The long explanation for this most important tenet runs for a full third of the scroll on which it is inscribed, but what it boils down to is already sealed item + further sealing = total failure.

Of the explosive kind.

...of the _total annihilation kind_.

My sealing method, of course, doesn't do that. Traditional sealing works by creating a set of finite, imperturbable, unbendable 'rules', of a sort, deliniated by the ink (or blood) of the seal itself. The seal functions as an active sealing 'gate' when chakra flows through the seal (and in some cases, the item to be sealed). In storage sealing, when the item has successfully passed the _Houdasei_ threshold (where sixty per cent of its mass is within the seal), 'momentum' of a sorts takes over and drags the rest of the item into the seal under its own 'weight'.

To put it simply, the seal is, even before the item is actually sealed, a completed recipe for the storage of an item, and only requires chakra to continue all on its own. The potential uses for this are astounding, but there is a rather glaring limitation in that attempting to seal a seal destabilizes _both _seals, which then try to release into each other, whereupon the _Houdasei_ principle comes into play and for a brief instant, both seals are successfully sealed within each other...right before reality gets involved and quickly and violently destroys the seals in order that natural laws not be broken.

The result is apocalyptic in scale.

My seal is rather more inventive, although much trickier to use, not to mention somewhat limited in its capabilities. Each sealed item is not sealed as a whole under its own seal, but is, using the recipe analogy from standard sealing, a single ingredient. Each item is but a piece of that recipe, and it is only when the pieces are drawn together and mixed in the proper order that the recipe bears fruit.

This, of course, necessitates an absurd amount of planning and forethought into what is going to be sealed, and in what order. It makes the seal multi-dimensional, which in turn makes it nearly impossible to break. As explosive seal interaction is known throughout the entire world, not one person in a million would ever search for a second seal on a sealed item, and layering seals in multiplicity makes the chance of a successful breakthrough as near to zero as makes no odds.

Sealing it into my own bones eliminates whatever chances happen to be left. And even doujutsu that allow the ability to 'see' the chakra traces of a seal (which is a lamentable and uncorrectable failing of the sealing arts) would not know that it is there; my own chakra pathways obscure the residue that the seal emits.

But I digress.

My house was, despite being an unrepentant financial burden that I could not easily throw off, my castle, as any home ought to be. It was slightly sterile and unadorned, with a touch of apathetic menace, and I loved it.

Drawing from the castle analogy, it protected me, provided a safety zone, an area where I was the undisputed master of all that I could see.

_Knock, knock_.

Unfortunately, unlike a proper castle, it lacked a moat and a drawbridge. I stifled a pained grimace and trudged to the door. I halted in front of it, took a deep breath, stretched my fingers, and blew out the air from my cheeks. Plastering a look of pleasant curiosity across my features, I pulled open the door.

There could have been any given number of phrases that ran through my head at the moment. Anything, really; it could have been '_what now'_ to '_hey, visitors_'. Suffice to say, though, it wasn't.

As I recall, the precise words that crossed my mind were '_shit_' and '_holy_'. Not necessarily in that order, though.

I'm not one who is usually given to the sin of lust. Don't misunderstand; I admire women. Curves are a beautiful thing to behold, and they draw my eye as effectively as the next possessor of the Y chromosome. I have been in the presence of women who were so lovely that I was left literally gasping for air. But for the most part, it is simple appreciation. Visceral? Of course. Overpowering and mind-altering? Never. I am (or was, rather) a shinobi; the _vast_ majority of attractive women I came in contact with could wield their assets just as effectively as a kunai or sword. A sobering thought, but no pair of breasts _regardless of size or shape_ was worth getting a senbon jammed through your eye.

A couple have come dangerously close, though. There was this kunoichi in Grass Country with these absolutely _enormous_...

Anyway, self-discipline defines me, even in my life as 'Imura', and it is rare indeed that something causes me to loose my steel grip on it.

I mention this because of the five women who were at my door, four of them were ferociously attractive. But it was the fifth that made 'Tacchi-chan' stand up and take notice.

"Hi," one of the women said with a wide grin, "we're the welcoming party!"

"We just want to say 'hi', Imura-san, and welcome you to the neighbourhood!" Another added unnecessarily.

At the time, quite frankly, I couldn't have correctly told them what either of them looked like. My eyes were riveted to the fifth woman.

Men, it must be noted, are highly visual creatures. It is the appearance that interests us initially, the flash and the pizazz that draws us closer. Of course, we have emotional needs too, but my gender is almost entirely physically driven. And, being a man, I am as prone to visual traps as the next.

I'll admit it: I've got a thing for red hair. I don't know what it is about that color that really catches my eye, but it certainly makes me look twice. Or thrice. Or six times. Anyway, the stuff is fucking magnetic. Short, long, light, dark, I don't care. But she had it, and I was suddenly and rather painfully (if you know what I mean) reminded that yes, I was a very heterosexual man.

So yes, she had very dark red hair. I like that. I liked that a _lot. _I followed it down to her shoulders, where it ended, and as I was fairly impressed by what I saw above that particular barrier, I was convinced to continue my visual examination. She didn't disappoint. She was fairly tall for a woman, about 175 cm tall, and whatever gods she may have claimed to follow had clearly given her their blessing.

I wasn't being terribly subtle about my appreciation, and unfortunately, she noticed.

"Better take a good long look there, bastard," she growled dangerously, "because when your eyes finish wandering, I'm gonna be pullin' 'em out of their sockets and eating them."

My eyes snapped up to meet hers as the other women giggled, and I threw the redhead a lazy grin. "Sorry," I drawled, not feeling the least bit so, "you caught me by surprise. And, for the record, I'd prefer keep my eyes, thank you." I opened the door wider and waved them all in. "If you're really that hungry, though, I can offer you something to eat. I suppose I should confess that I am, lamentably, fresh out of eyeballs, save for my own, which I am rather reluctant to part with."

The redhead glared even as they all entered my house, the others laughing at my riposte. They slipped off their sandals politely, and I was pleasantly surprised to note their foresight in bringing their own house-slippers, as I had none for guests. Leading them into the main room, I sat down on the bare floor in front of the low table that occupied the majority of the small room.

What followed was nearly an hour of interminable meaningless so-called 'pleasantries' from the welcoming committee. Sheer, unadulterated, mind-numbing boredom that my duties as host, no matter how unwilling, forced me to listen to and act interested in.

Perhaps the only thing of interest that I learned was the redhead's name. Lying on my futon, staring at the ceiling long after the women had left, I found myself completely unable to sleep. I furrowed my brow in concentration.

It was true that a small amount of my sleepless state was due to mental compositions of the redhead in far less clothing, but the vast majority of it was actual worry...ironically, over the same woman.

While I'd never actually _seen_ her before tonight, I had a very strong feeling in the pit of my stomach that I should know her.

After all, it's not like 'Tayuya' was a common name...

**Author's Note: I hereby reserve the right to laugh at you all. And I'm not even going to apologise for taking so long to update. I couldn't write this chapter for a while, partially due to musicky stuff I'm doing, partially because of my job, partially because of a girl, but mostly due to writer's block. Started this chappy on December 1st, finished it on December 2nd.**

**Cheers. And for those of you who don't like me using Tayuya, blow it out your arse.**

**And just so I don't get hassled by Naru/Hina fans, let me state right now FOR THE RECORD that it is NOT going to be Naru/Hina. And yes, Naruto will show up and play a large part...MUCH later on. And Naruto is going to get a girl, and it is NOT going to be either Sakura OR Hinata. And Itachi is also going to get a girl, believe it or not.**


	16. Chapter 3: Understated

**Chapter III**

_To our revered and beloved fifth Hokage, hail. From Hunter-Nin operative; designation 'Wolf', regarding extended SS-Class rundown/assassination mission, target nukenin Uchiha Itachi, message follows:_

_Second Quarter Report, 377CE, Location QN-A-103-4500/3000 (Former land of Rice)_

_I am pleased to report that circumstances regarding the potential outcome of this mission are slowly but surely leaning in Konoha's favour. Itachi is nowhere to be found within Yuki no Kuni, and I am slowly eliminating the possibilities of Rice Country. Our allies and informants within Yuki no Kuni have made it abundantly clear that Itachi never made it more than five or six kilometres past the eastern borders, before encountering a Snow ANBU._

_A detail that struck me as odd: The ANBU survived and appeared uninjured, description attached for files. Itachi is not the type to leave witnesses, let alone a witness that is unharmed. ANBU was noticeably reticent to go into details regarding her survival. She admitted to being beaten rather easily, and that Itachi apparently 'thought' he had broken her neck. I do not believe that Itachi would be so careless. Perhaps this is indicative of a bloodlimit?_

_I must restate my firm belief that Itachi has not penetrated Yuki no Kuni; indeed, I doubt that he has continued west at all. While my target is certainly a master of Genjutsu and stealth as befitting a former ANBU, I find it highly unlikely that someone of even his skill would be able to avoid _all_ of our ally's ninja, taking into account the high standards of quality that they are made to live up to, and so I find no reason to disbelieve our ally's opinion that Itachi proceeded north._

_Furthermore, all known mutual contacts within Snow's borders have been silent on knowledge of his movements up until the last confirmed sighting._

_As Akatsuki is based somewhere within Ame, and considering that Amegakure is loyal to this 'Pein' character, I am of two minds regarding the possibility of Itachi cutting through Ame heading north: One part of me believes that Itachi could very well penetrate the depths of this country and come out on its northern border unnoticed. It would be very consistent with his sense of humour. But the course that I believe to be more in holding with his actual movements are an easterly movement towards Kiri, and then cutting north._

_Itachi is, and always has been, obscenely cautious. At this point in time, alienated by his former organization and possessing few, if any, actual allies, it would be far more consistent with his character to avoid confrontation of any kind, and the naturally thick mists of Kiri, coupled with his unprecedented Genjutsu skills, would make detection almost an absurd impossibility._

_I will cautiously search the former land of Rice (Sound Country now), to eliminate all possibility of his presence. _

_If I happen upon the opportunity, I would like be given the opportunity to eliminate S-class nukenin Orochimaru of the Sannin, his second Yakushi Kabuto, and his protégé Uchiha Sasuke. It is well within my abilities, as you well know, and such an opportunity cannot be missed, for the good of Konoha. I will of course bow to your will, and swear to do so only if I am able to escape without notice afterwards._

_For Konoha!_

'_Wolf'_

_

* * *

  
_

_To Hunter-nin designation 'Wolf':_

_If you get the chance, eliminate the Snake and his second. Uchiha Sasuke will be brought to trial in Konoha at a later date. Do this ONLY if you have a prime opportunity. You may not spend more time in Oto than necessary for your primary mission. _

_If you do have the opportunity to eliminate these threats, know this: the medic has a regeneration technique that allows him to survive and overcome crippling and what would be fatal blows. Be sure to take his head!_

_Regarding Itachi's whereabouts, Kazekage Sabaku no Gaara has made it clear that Itachi has not crossed into his borders, but is willing to assign up to ten ANBU to assist you within the confines of Kaze no Kuni. For diplomatic reasons, I strongly suggest that you do not take advantage of his generous offer. Our alliance is not weak, but neither is it strong, and it would do no good to question the Kazekage's knowledge of his own country. You are free to do as you will, of course, but keep that in mind._

_Bear in mind that once your primary mission is complete, you are to proceed home with all due speed, regardless of whether or not the Snake is dead. _

_Good luck,_

_Senjuu Tsunade, Godaime Hokage_

_

* * *

  
_

_To our revered and beloved fifth Hokage, hail. From Hunter-Nin operative; designation 'Wolf', regarding extended SS-Class rundown/assassination mission, target nukenin Uchiha Itachi, message follows:_

_Report addendum._

_I give you good news: The medic spy, Yakushi Kabuto, is dead, along with thirty high-jounin Oto-nin. I was fortunate enough to catch Kabuto unaware, and have included in this scroll a seal containing his severed head. The body, has been disposed of. The thirty other nin I eliminated by using Kabuto's own chakra scalpel technique, stolen from his body, along with some characteristic detritus left at the scene. The other seal contains some interesting papers from Orochimaru's own laboratory, some of which regard the cursed seal. Orochimaru is firmly convinced that Kabuto stole them, killed thirty of his comrades, and then disappeared. _

_The bad news: I eliminated Kabuto first, and unfortunately, I miscalculated Orochimaru's response, which I assumed would be to send out hunting parties of his own. Instead, he has retreated deep within his complex and he surrounds himself and Uchiha Sasuke with guards day and night. I am unable to get close enough to quietly eliminate him._

_I offer my apologies, as my time in Oto draws to a close. There is no sign of Itachi, nor is there any indication that he has so much as stepped within its borders._

_I will not take up the Kazekage's offer until and unless all other countries have been swept for Itachi._

_For Konoha!_

'_Wolf'_

_

* * *

  
_

_To Hunter-nin designation 'Wolf':_

_You have done a great service to Konoha, and I commend you for this. The medic was a danger to us all, and gave me difficulties when I fought him seven years ago. To have successfully eliminated him _and_ cast serious doubts into the mind of my former team-mate is deserving of great praise._

_It is unfortunate that your success against Kabuto eliminated the possibility of killing his master, but it is of little consequence. There will be other opportunities. You have been credited with the kill, of course, and have been paid accordingly._

_Senjuu Tsunade, Godaime Hokage_

_

* * *

  
_

_To our revered and beloved fifth Hokage, hail. From Hunter-Nin operative; designation 'Wolf', regarding extended SS-Class rundown/assassination mission, target nukenin Uchiha Itachi, message follows:_

_Report addendum._

_I have picked up what I believe to be Itachi's trail. He is indeed headed north through Kiri. I will not be able to contact you with any great frequency now, as I leave the range of messenger hawks. I will write in six months or when I am returning, whichever is sooner._

_For Konoha!_

'_Wolf'_

_**Author's Note:**__ As of December 11__th__, I am no longer using OpenOffice Writer, but have acquired Microsoft Office 2007 Enterprise, so I am using Word 2007!_

_Apologies for the short chapter, but I needed an 'interlude' chapter. Things should start picking up again, story-wise, very soon now. I have plans to make this EPIC in length, so bear with me._


	17. Chapter 4: Underestimated

**Chapter IV**

"Kisame-kun, how are you feeling?" Konan asked as she wrapped bandages around the enormous nuke-nin's chest, Zetsu hovering over her shoulder.

"Like Hell swallowed me up and shat me out," the shark-like man groaned. "I guess I'm still pretty lucky, though."

"**Of course you are,"** Zetsu's dark half agreed before the blue-haired woman could answer. "If you had bones instead of cartilage," his white half continued, "you would be in far worse shape."

Konan nodded her agreement. "You took quite a beating from Pein-sama," she stated. "Bones would have broken, and the damage to the back of your head might have caused your skull to fracture."

"**As it is, you have a great deal of soft tissue damage,"** the plant-like shinobi lectured as he expertly probed his injured compatriot's musculature with his fingers. "But that can be healed far more quickly and easily. What we're worried about now are your organs. Does it hurt when I press here?" he asked, pressing down gently on the right side of Kisame's abdomen.

The injured man winced. "Yeah, it does," he growled. Zetsu's eyes narrowed and he immediately removed his fingertips from the location.

"**Sharp pain?" **

"No, it's only sore. Just bruising, I think." Konan 'hmmm'ed and exchanged a quick glance with the plant-like nin.

"It's probably nothing," she agreed, "but I'm going to take a closer look at it."

"**It's highly unlikely, but you may have damaged your appendix," **Zetsu explained to Kisame, who grimaced and sighed. **"I know we did a full scan earlier this week, **but sometimes the body doesn't react instantly to trauma, as strange as that seems."

"Gods, it's been almost two months already," Kisame grumbled, worried. "You'd think I'd be fine by now." Konan shrugged apologetically.

"If you had been conscious, you would have been. But between that low-grade coma you were in and your rather unique physiology, chakra therapy could have injured you even further."

"**We were afraid to do too much, in case your chakra unconsciously saw our invasive procedures as threatening,"** Zetsu admitted. "We couldn't do much but chemically stabilize you and slowly introduce medical chakra to your system **in an attempt to 'encourage' your body to heal itself. Now that you are awake, we can proceed much more rapidly**. I estimate that you should be completely recovered within the week."

"Barring any complications," Konan corrected her subordinate, who shrugged and lifted Kisame's right arm to prod at the flesh of his underarm. Konan finished wrapping Kisame's chest and started on his right wrist as it was being held aloft by the plant-like nin.

"**Any pain here?" **

"No."

"**Good. Very good. **How's your breathing? I noticed that your voice sounded a little thick."

Kisame shrugged. "It's a little hard to breathe, and I've got this god-awful desire to cough up a lung." Nodding, Zetsu placed his hand flat against Kisame's chest.

"Breathe in. And let it go. And in. And out." The bizarre Akatsuki medic took his palm away and shrugged. **"Sounds like you've got some mucous in your lungs. A hot drink and some coughing will clear that out. **It's not unusual for drainage to collect in your lungs in this damp environment."

Konan agreed with a nod and focused, her hands glowing pale green with medical chakra. Placing her palms on either side of Kisame's barrel-like chest, she slowly ran them up and down for several minutes.

"A little bit of trauma to his kidneys," she announced to her fellow medic. "But nothing that some bed rest and chakra can't cure. It explains the blood and sugar in his urine as well. There are a few lesions in the peritoneum, all small and healing nicely. No indications of peritonitis. A fair amount of bruising on the liver from thoracic compression that needs to be fixed, but it's not life-threatening. The appendix is fine, though the flesh above it is badly damaged."

"**Lucky indeed," **Zetsu commented, breathing a sigh of relief. **"I was afraid that he may have had internal bleeding. **The tears on the peritoneum I can understand." He turned to the blue-haired kunoichi. "Would you please double-check the lungs for me? **My method isn't terribly accurate."**

Konan raised her hands higher on Kisame's body, sliding them under his arms. And frowned. "Any more fluid in his lungs and he'd be at risk for pneumonia. He's fine, but it's a near thing. As it is, it's too close for comfort; I'm dispersing the fluid into his body."

"**Indeed?" **Zetsu asked, surprised. **"I had no idea that it was so close. **Frankly, I'm more concerned about that head wound. As hard-headed as Kisame may be, **his brain is just as squishy as anyone else's**."

Konan bit back a chuckle as Kisame gave a very rude gesture to the former Kusa medic-nin. "He'll be fine; I checked earlier. There's no fluid buildup; just some very mild bruising. You'll have a pretty severe headache in a few hours," she continued, addressing the shark-like nin, "but that's it."

"Nothing like knowing that you're going to be in pain to cheer a guy up," Kisame grunted sourly.

"Zetsu, please give us some privacy," Konan stated suddenly. The Kusa nukenin threw her a curious expression, but nodded and sunk into the ground. The paper-wielding kunoichi leveled her gaze at her immobile subordinate.

"Kisame-kun…we need to talk."

* * *

I knew they were there as soon as they arrived. I was in the back of my workshop on my hands and knees, cursing lightly under my breath as I scoured the forge. Charcoal powder crusted unpleasantly underneath my fingernails and streaked across my face.

Well, the upper half, anyway. The charcoal I burned produced extraordinarily hot and easily produced the temperatures needed to turn the iron I used malleable, but it also crumbled into a terribly fine, slick powder that was prone to flying up into the air, choking whatever poor bastard happened to have the great misfortune to inhale anywhere in its vicinity.

A fine-meshed piece of fabric, wrapped several times around my mouth and nose, provided sufficient protection against the stuff.

It didn't, of course, do a damn thing towards dampening my chakra sensing skills.

My first instinct was to grab a weapon as soon as my mind registered two tightly controlled chakra signatures on the edge of my perception radius, but I suppressed it. Barely. I was but a humble blacksmith, and there was no way that I should know that ninja were near.

My hands fisted and my knuckles tightened when I sensed them coming directly for my place of business.

_Fuck! How did they find me? Okay, Itachi, stay calm,_ I thought to myself, loosening the wrap around my face and letting it hang on my shoulders. _They might not even be here for you – it's not completely unbelievable that ninja would pass through Wave. _A jingle told me that they had entered, and I swallowed, put on a smile, and smudged the charcoal dust a little more over my face, subtly trying to alter my features. Pushing my way into the front, I made a show of wiping off my hands with a towel.

"Hello, and welcome to the…" I began, and halted, somewhat relieved. _Kusa-nin_, I thought, taking instant note of their hitai-ate, _and weak ones. Two Chuunin. Piece of pie._ Both wholly covered save for their eyes, which were dark and glittered in an unfriendly manner. I could bluff my way through this. "Ninja. I don't serve ninja; I'm sorry, but you'll have to take your business elsewhere." I scowled at them dramatically.

"Shut up, blacksmith," the one on the right said in a lazy tone, his posture indicating just how incredibly bored he really was. "You happen to be our business. Volume business, in fact."

Instant comprehension, but an ordinary civilian wouldn't bridge the connections so quickly. "I don't want anything to do with your business, ninja. My store, my rules. Get out."

"Yeah…" the other one said sardonically. "Well, we see things a little differently, blacksmith Imura Tacchi. Understand, we have a client who deals in exports. And he has this fascination with numbers. Not big ones, but little tiny ones. Fractions, you could say, are his thing. Percentages. And that's his favourite thing in all the world. Just these tiny numbers to make him happy."

"You, however," the first one drawled, "make him unhappy. You took away one of his percentages, and that makes him sad. We're here to talk to you and maybe have you help make him happy again." Apathy descended into coldness. "By, say, about twenty-five per cent."

I leveled a flat gaze at them both. "You want me to pay twenty-five per cent extra on your client's stock when I can get it for a quarter of that from Fire Country?" I snorted. "Get out. Tell your client to – and I want you to repeat this word-for-word to him now, so pay attention – _suck his own fucking arsehole._ He gets _nothing_. It's my decision to choose with whom I deal, not his."

"Ah-ah-ah, but that's not very nice," the second one cautioned mockingly. "We weren't sent here to 'bargain' so much as 'demand'. It's not a choice, really."

I smiled unpleasantly. "Oh, but it is. It _really is_." The nin on my right cocked his head, clearly annoyed that his intimidation tactics weren't having the desired effect.

"You've got balls," he said, almost admiringly, "big brass ones, too. But we're elite Chuunin of Hidden Grass. We've killed more people in the past year than you've ever even met. It's just money, blacksmith – there's no need for you to die over it."

I laughed and pushed my way through them, flipping over the 'Open' sign and barring the door, simultaneously dropping the wooden-slat blinds to cover the windows. Cut off from the sun, the room fell into darkness, lit only by the hellish glow from the forge in the back room.

"Are you stupid?" The second ninja asked with a chuckle. "We've been trained to fight in darkness since childhood. Hiding in the dark isn't going to do you any good."

I shrugged. "I have a business to run," I said darkly. "And it wouldn't be good for business to have anyone see what I'm about to do to you."

"Juubo, kill him. He's obviously planning to try and fight." The first ninja sighed. "Tried to do things the nice way, blacksmith. Oh, well."

"Ah, but you've made an error, a rather large one at that," I said, letting a small smile cross my lips.

"Oh?" 'Juubo' asked curiously, pulling out a curved kunai and coming towards me, completely unconcerned. "And what would that be?"

"You never stopped to ask me…_where I was really hiding_." Eyes widened as the 'Imura' in plain sight dissolved into crows.

"Genjutsu!? A ninja!" Was all that Juubo managed before his head suddenly jerked up and to the right, producing a terribly loud cracking sound. His body slumped to the floor, and in almost the same motion, his compatriot let out a reflexive gasp as the wind was driven from his lungs.

Because of that little fact, he didn't have any breath within him to cry out as I shattered his spine between his clavicles, rendering him a quadriplegic. Grasping him by his hair through his facemask, I brought his face close to mine. Black eyes widened in fear and recognition as red lanced through my eyes.

"Uchiha…" he gasped.

"You're going to tell me everything you know about your client," I grated out, "_whether you want to or not. _Enjoy your stay in the world of the moonlit night!"

_Tell me!_

_TELL ME!_

_**TELL ME! You cannot resist, you don't want to resist! TELL ME! There is no escape, you cannot escape – all things are made clear to me! TELL METELLMETELLMETELLMETELLME!**_

An eternity within an instant, and I knew. I dragged the bodies to the back room, threw them in the forge, and incinerated them with a quick blast of _Amaterasu_. Forming a single seal, two Kage Bunshin popped into existence. One immediately used _Henge_ to transform into a duplicate of Juubo, followed quickly by myself as I transformed into his partner.

"You will run the store until I return," I directed to the remaining clone. I nodded to its undisguised brother. "You, with me," I ordered.

"We've got a Kusa merchant to kill."


	18. Chapter 5: Unendurable

**Chapter V**

_**Author's Note:**__ It is uncharacteristic of me to write at the _beginning_ of a chapter, but I feel I must explain something. I don't like Naruto. I don't mean the character, I mean the manga. Not anymore. Kishimoto has fucked up his own universe by trying to do too much in favour of Sasuke. He's so obviously against any sort of punishment towards his admitted favourite character, in fact, that it makes me wonder if he knows JK Rowling on a social basis._

_Let me explain something to all of you: To me, heroes are meant to be heroic. They struggle, they adapt, they overcome pain and loss, and they get the girl in the end. Villains are to be diabolical, insidiously clever, darkly charming, but ultimately CRUSHED into little tiny fucking pieces in the most brutal manner imaginable. Trying to create an empathic reader response towards Sasuke, who is obviously a selfish, spoiled, damaged-and-unrepentant-about-it twisted little FUCKTARD has pissed me off for the last time._

_A little off-topic there. My point is that as this is fanfiction, I'm going to be taking some things out of Shippuden and leaving others. Artistic licence, as it were. Point the first: It's not 3 years for the time skip, it's 7. Orochimaru is still alive. Kabuto (up until two chapters ago) was alive. Sasuke is still training with Orochimaru, and the same goes to his team-mates and their respective Sannin teachers. So Jiraiya is still alive. Yamato and Sai have not met Sakura and Naruto, and it is unlikely that they will, as I dislike the characters. Akatsuki has only just started moving in, and has successfully captured Ichibi ONLY, wherein things have proceeded as in canon, which also means that the two remaining so-called 'Team 7' members have reunited, but are not a 'team' again, _unlike_ canon. So Yugito Nii is still alive, and in a rare bit of unabashed and, I will freely and pointedly admit, _finalised_ foreshadowing, WILL REMAIN SO._

_Continuity errors? Oh, you bet. Doesn't matter. FAN-FIC-TION. Someone else's world that I get to play God in._

_Point the second: I _like_ Orochimaru_. _For a bad guy, he's pretty badass – rather like Sephiroth, in a way, whom I consider the consummate badass. Clearly he's the devil, but he's so smooth and elegant about his nefarious deeds that you almost want to like him. So I'll keep him around for a good long while until (or if) I decide it's time for him to die._

_Point the third: I also like Kisame, but that much should be obvious. He's a crazy bastard, but he's my kind of crazy. _

_I _know_ I make errors. I try damned hard not to, but they're there. I reread my writing constantly, even after posting, not only to stay current on my own stuff, but to pick out mistakes, which I then correct on the master copy. I'll fix it later. Piss off._

_

* * *

  
_

When the news came, Jiraiya had been perplexed. Then he'd been angry, and finally, in the deepest parts of his heart, he'd been afraid. Not for himself, of course; Jiraiya wasn't that way. He'd do everything within his power to aid those few whom he truly loved, but threats to himself were minor inconveniences, at worst.

This was far beyond such an inconvenience.

'_So,'_ he thought, staring at the single piece of paper clutched in his broad palm, _'my sole source within Akatsuki bails out, just like that, huh? And at such a critical period of time…this is unfortunate.'_

Truth be told, Jiraiya had always despised the Uchiha clan, and in his heart of hearts had been guiltily pleased that Itachi had massacred them all. He'd butted heads with more than one of the prideful, arrogant clan over the years, and he considered their copying abilities to be nothing more than a half-assed shortcut to undeserved power. The Uchiha, he firmly believed, didn't deserve a quarter of the strength they held, because they didn't work for it. They didn't work for it, and they didn't respect what they stole; they just took, viewing their blatant theft as a Gods-given right…no, more than that! It was an imperative, what it meant to be Uchiha!

In the eyes of the Uchiha, any clan member who did not activate a Sharingan was somehow less. An accident. A mistake.

Well, Jiraiya smirked internally, only one Uchiha ever rose to challenge the Sannin in strength, and Uchiha Itachi had paved the road he traveled to power with hard work and discipline.

"Oi, Ero-sennin!" Jiraiya jerked in surprise as his apprentice's voice burst through his thoughts with all the grace and subtlety of a three-legged flatulent elephant. His craggy features stretched into a ferocious scowl as he swiftly reached back and smacked one meaty hand across the back of Uzumaki Naruto's head. "Ow! What was that for, you old perv?"

Jiraiya turned and regarded the blonde boy. "You ungrateful little brat! Didn't you ever learn to respect your elders?"

Naruto stuck out his tongue childishly. "Give me something to respect and I might consider it, perv!" Seven years had wrought an impressive change in the boy, not the least of which was his height, which nearly matched Jiraiya's own impressive stature. Lean muscle covered a lanky frame topped with shaggy golden hair, giving the young man a physique that most would consider to be built for speed.

Jiraiya smirked internally. Nothing could be further from the truth. Naruto's fleetness was impressive, but even without chakra enhancing techniques, his student had but a narrow gap separating his physical prowess from that of his teacher's. The boy had been trained well.

In all honesty, Jiraiya had taken most abusive advantage of some basic human physiological tenets. This being the fact that when muscles break and tear, they rebuild themselves stronger than before. The same was true for bones. Normally, this healing process took from days to weeks, depending on the severity of the damage inflicted. The more damage, the more benefit.

Naruto, though, didn't have the disadvantage of actually having to _wait_ for his body to heal, as the mere fact that he was Jinchuuriki meant that any injury, regardless of severity, would heal in a matter of moments. Jiraiya was quite proud of his little discovery; under his tutelage, Naruto's body had gone through tremendously horrific trauma, literally burning his musculature away and having the Kyuubi heal him in seconds.

The upshot of this was that Naruto's body reached a level of physical conditioning that a normal human would have spent _decades_ trying to achieve in a comparatively short period of seven years. Training the boy's body in this manner while simultaneously training his mind through the prodigious use of _Kage Bunshin _had sent Naruto's skill level skyrocketing.

Jiraiya was wholly confident that with his current physical conditioning, Naruto could go up against the entire Jounin population of Konoha, Suna, and Yuki…and spank them all like naughty children. And when Naruto's self-described 'stupidly huge' chakra reserves were brought to bear on top of that…

The Toad Sennin mentally shook his head in awe. Naruto's seal had been leeching the Kyuubi's chakra, purifying it before circulating it into his own chakra coils from the moment of the Kyuubi's sealing. It was slow at first, but with age and experience, the small trickle of chakra had become larger and larger. At his current level, Naruto possessed approximately one-tenth of Kyuubi's chakra.

One-tenth of Kyuubi's chakra was roughly equal to the combined chakra capacities of every human being within the borders of Hi no Kuni.

Jiraiya blinked, suddenly aware of the last scion of the Uzumaki's fingers snapping mere inches from his bulbous nose. "What the hell are you doing?"

Naruto eyed him strangely, resting a hand on his hip. "Geez," the boy sniped, "You just kinda spaced out there, ero-sennin. I thought that was only supposed to happen when you hit eighty! Starting early?"

Jiraiya swiped at his insufferably disrespectful student, who ducked and rolled away with a large grin on his face.

"Brat!"

"Aw, you love me anyway, perv."

"You're insufferable." The grin on his broad face slackened, and he scratched the side of his nose. "Listen up, kid; I've got some bad news."

Naruto flopped gracelessly to the ground, legs splayed out in front of him. "What is it now?"

Jiraiya crouched down opposite his student, looking the blonde straight in the eye. "My best contact within Akatsuki…well, 'quit', for lack of a better word." Naruto whistled.

"Damn. Did this guy sell out or get killed, or what?"

"When I say quit," the Toad Sennin lectured, "I mean that he left. Retired, you could say. Doesn't happen to give two shits about either the Akatsuki or us. QUIT. And if we're going to make it through this alive, that means I've got to re-establish a rapport with a particularly unpleasant source, one that I haven't used in years and which is not terribly fond of Konoha."

Naruto blinked and sat forward a bit. "But Ero-sennin," he asked, ignoring the twitch the older man gave at the insulting title, "what could be worse than that crazy old lazy in Iwa? She practically tried to kill you when we met her."

Jiraiya threw the blonde a pointed look. "Trust me on this one, brat – it's worse. A _lot_ worse, in fact. Which is precisely why you're not coming with me."

"What the hell?!" The unknowing heir of Minato Namikaze leapt to his feet, face reddening in anger and disbelief. The most perverse of the legendary Sannin rose from his squatting position in time to be met with the full force of a "Whaddya mean, 'I can't go'?!"

Uncharacteristically, Jiraiya gently laid a hand on his protégé's shoulder. "Naruto," he said, not unkindly, "you know that I have sources throughout the whole of the Elemental Countries, right? And that not all of them are…amenable, shall we say, to Konoha or her interests?"

"Yeah, so what?!" Jiraiya sighed.

"Naruto, this source _hates_ Konoha. He wants it destroyed with extreme prejudice. He wants every living thing within our borders annihilated, from the Hokage on down to the cockroaches that live underneath the dumpster in the seediest part of the city. And that includes you, especially."

Naruto scowled and rubbed his head vigorously in fierce irritation. "And you trust him why?"

"I don't…not really," Jiraiya admitted. "But we have mutual interests, and there's a certain amount of respect between the two of us, enough so that he's a relatively reliable source of information. But he's dangerous, and he's tricky. I can watch my own back well enough, but I can't protect myself _and_ you, and despite how strong you are now, you're not experienced enough to take him." When Naruto opened his mouth to protest, Jiraiya squeezed his shoulder lightly.

"Kid…look, I just don't want you to get killed, alright? I've got no intention of outliving _two_ students," the older man said flatly. "I barely managed to pull myself together after the death of Yondaime. I don't think I'd be able to recover if I got you killed, too." Naruto sighed and nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"So if you're going to meet this crazy Konoha-hating 'source' of yours, what am I supposed to be doing?"

Slowly, a grin that showed far too many teeth to be pleasant took over Jiraiya's features, and Naruto was struck with a sudden sense of dread. "Why," he said cheerfully, "you're going to Kumo to have a friendly little chat with the Raikage, of course!"

Sometimes Naruto absolutely _hated_ the old perv.


	19. Chapter 6: Undecided

**Chapter VI**

For some reason, a great many of the people I have encountered over the years as an active ninja have had this curious impression that I have an addiction to Pocky. I don't really know why.

(Strangely no-one besides Kisame and Sasuke know about my fascination with onions, despite no efforts on my part to keep it a secret. Everyone keeps on harping on about the Pocky bit, for some odd reason.)

True, I'm often seen with the sugary snack, and I _have_, in fact, been to Kumo's annual Pocky Festival eleven years in a row. I'll even admit to killing several ninja who mocked me for indulging in, and I quote, 'such a childish treat', but I wouldn't say that I'm _addicted, _per se. I can quit any damn time I please.

All jokes aside, though, I confess that I am rather fond of the snack food. It is a comfort food of a sort – sweet without being too sweet, crisp without being dry, and conveniently sized to fit three boxes snugly within one kunai holster. Of all the varied comestibles available to the traveling nin, Pocky truly stands at the head of the pack.

The startlingly high amount of sugar is good for a quick energy rush, with a fair amount of carbohydrates for long-term energy. There is salt for water retention in arid environments, and there's even some protein, paired with a relatively high calorie count for the treat. As an added bonus, it is actually _pleasant_ to eat, unlike a great many energy supplements designed for the traveling ninja. Pocky is small, dense, and useful. And, if one were desperate enough, it can even be coated with chakra and used as blunt senbon, although one might consider it a criminal waste to utilize it in such a manner. Truly, it is the perfect food.

(On a superficially related tangent, Kisame once noted that if Pocky manufacturers ever hit upon the idea of onion flavoured Pocky, I would burn through my entire savings in roughly an hour and expire one week later after lapsing into a diabetic coma, punctuated by the world's worst case of halitosis. I strongly disagreed, as despite my fondness for both onions and pocky, there are some things in this world that are just plain unholy. Onion Pocky, after Yaoi and porcelain [it's a long and rather bizarre story; don't ask] happens to place third on that particular list. Farther down that list lies sesame seed _mocchi_ and tea with sugar in it.)

…Hmm. Maybe I _do_ think a little too much about pocky.

The point of this rambling is really rather inconsequential, but I can safely say that its origin lies in the fact that it was Pocky (strawberry flavour, if you must know) that I was munching on contentedly as I sat in the rooftop shadows of a building somewhere near the centre of Kusagakure.

Kusa is what I privately imagine Konoha would become like if it ever should fall under the militant leadership of Danzou, the leader of ANBU division 'Ne'. It is a hard place, an uncomfortable place – one built on the concept of 'might makes right' and all the multitude of minutiae that go along with that disturbingly simple phrase.

It is a violent, dirty little village that takes unwholesome pride in the corpses lining their back alleyways; it a Mecca for the cruel and chaotic, home to the singularly unpleasant. It is a haven for the diseased souls and those who would gladly wallow in the putrescent pus of human indecency.

And yet, in spite of this, it enjoys a steady stream of prosperity. Again, it is a kind of blackly amusing antithesis to my own village of origin; Konoha is prosperous and well-thought of amongst those with a fondness for a sterling image and reputation, whilst Kusa is the delight of clients who revel and bask in the unrelenting fear of others

As amoral as I may be (or perhaps, a little more honestly, as apathetic towards the _concept_ of morality as I may be), I found Kusa…_distasteful_. I looked at my 'companion', my _Kage Bunshin_ that was transformed to look like one of the ninja I had killed back in Nami. I, of course, was under _Henge_ to look like his compatriot. With my skills at _genjutsu_, along with the information I had literally ripped from the chuunin's mind, I had been able to penetrate the village without anyone suspecting the wiser.

Had I the ability, of course, I would have used the _Shoutai Nijyuushin no_ _jutsu_, or the True Character Doppelganger technique, in order to create and command body doubles from afar. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to control two bodies at once, to say nothing of the difficulties in finding a place where the tremendous amount of chakra I used wouldn't be detected. Oh, well. It looked like I would just have to face Sasaki head-on.

Sasaki Yamato was a dead merchant who laboured under the mistaken impression that he could still be counted amongst the living, and consequently he had fallen prey to the very mortal sin of unbridled avarice. He'd evidently gotten away with it for so long that whenever someone took offense at his arrogant suppositions, he took violent action in order to 'rectify' the matter in his favour. I had plans, of course, to relieve him of that particular illusion and reveal to him the truth about himself.

This truth, of course, involved impressing upon him his status as 'corpse'. But it wasn't going to be easy.

Despite Sasaki's status as a non-nin (and, more to the point, remarkably unhealthy and suffering from a non-lethal though undoubtedly painful wasting disease), killing him was going to be something of a challenge. He had unfortunately gone through official channels in hiring the ninja I had killed, and in doing so had registered the reasons for his actions with the Mission Assignment Offices. My name, or rather, the name of Imura Tacchi, was now on official record as an assassination target. Any direct action against Sasaki, in the light of Imura's continued survival, would be adjudged _highly _suspicious, and Kusa would immediately cast its bloodthirsty gaze upon my alter ego.

Frankly, that was a situation to be avoided. So I couldn't simply off the turd, despite how much pleasure it would give me. No, I had to be clever. The merchant had to die in a way that couldn't be directly (or even indirectly, for that matter) linked back to me. Fortunately (and I say this without arrogance), 'clever' is something I happen to be very, very good at.

I finished my Pocky and retreated deeper into the shadows that were lengthening as the sun sank lower into the west, and I mulled the situation over in my mind. I did have some advantages, as it stood – for one, Sasaki had no idea that I was alive, let alone an S-class _nukenin_ considering how best to murder the man, who was currently seated at his table, eating dinner less than five minutes away from where I crouched with my false comrade. No one on the surface of the planet had any idea yet that what little remained of the two chuunin sent after Imura Tacchi was currently mingling with coal ash in the bottom of a forge in Nami no Kuni. The greatest point in my favour, though, was this:

Thanks to my _Kage Bunshin _who was currently operating the smithy in Nami, there wasn't a person alive save for myself who had the slightest inkling that I was _anywhere near_ Kusa! My impressive skill with the clone technique rendered the chakra construction effectively identical to the real article, not to mention my unheard-of ability to maintain it over long distance. So long as it wasn't dispelled (which was rather unlikely as I'd reinforced the _Bunshin_ with protective and preventative seals previous to my departure), it would fool almost anyone lacking a doujutsu.

But even before Sasaki's death was to take place, I had to eliminate all written records of Kusa's mission to kill Imura Tacchi. For if Sasaki died before the records had been destroyed, standard procedure would be to look at who the dead man had offended, and as I stated before, Imura Tacchi's continued existence would send red rags up in the minds of the investigators. And as seedy and reprehensible as Kusagakure was, it would not suffer the death of one of its own lightly, to say nothing of a wealthy citizen.

Obviously, it wasn't a perfect counter; inevitably, someone _somewhere_ would recall the mission, but I banked heavily on the assurance that humans, even ninja, tend to take the path of least resistance. If they thought they remembered something but could find no proof of it, and those who were supposedly 'assigned' to the mission were seen elsewhere…ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the person would attribute the inconsistency to a faulty memory. They would, of course, keep it to themselves regardless of whether they were taken in by it or not, because, after all, if there was no proof, they'd be regarded as 'unfortunately overworked' and sent on recuperative furlough.

Which, might I hasten to add, is regarded as one very infinitesimally small step this side of an official demerit. Not one ninja in ten thousand would risk that over a missing C-class mission.

The ultimate question, therefore, was 'how'. How was I going to eliminate this pest while remaining anonymous? If the direct way was out, then it clearly had to be an _in_direct method, meaning no marks and no indications of anything but a natural death. I drummed my fingers on my kneecap as I thought.

_B-b-b-bom. B-b-b-bom._

Poison was always a fun way to eliminate someone, and though most people (and a large majority of ninja as well) thought of poisoning as being too easy to detect in the corpse, there _were_ poisons that lasted less than ten minutes before separating and reverting back to inert materials. The problem with most of the 'invisible' poisons is that, once absorbed into the bloodstream, they do their dirty work with agonizing slowness and must be re-administered every few weeks. Very subtle, and highly amusing to watch someone slowly go from mild worry to panic to outright terror over a period of several months as they watch their own body inexplicably begin to betray them. A relatively long, slow, and painful decline that mimicked nature's own cruelties quite adequately, it was ideal for subtle slayings.

I, however, didn't have eight months to spare, and quicker poisons were so…_unrefined_. Cyanide was so blatantly obvious that most ninja didn't even learn about it anymore, notwithstanding the fact that almond trees only grew around Kiri, and which were in such short supply that just almonds themselves were paid for by equal weight with gold.

_B-b-b-bom. B-b-b-bom._

I suppose I could use an inhaled poison, but those without scent or substance were fiendishly difficult to make, to say nothing of actually _applying _them. Making them into incense or candles was a remarkably inefficient method of distribution, and relied on the subject to light them of his or her own accord. Typically, this method usually worked best with women, as most men looked upon scented candles with indifference at best and horrified distaste at worst. There was also the risk of collateral damage, which is fine in some cases, but not when only one person is the target.

_B-b-b-bom. B-b-b-bom._

I frowned. I supposed that I _could _kill several people around him in order to disguise his death, but that left me with the choice of either creating a localized 'accident' or a sudden mass murder, neither of which sat well with me. Oh, well; it's always good to keep one's options open.

_B-b-b-bom. B-b-b-bom._

Using the abilities of my _doujutsu_ was completely unfeasible. Killing him with any of my _Sharingan's_ sordid abilities was possible, but the sheer amount of chakra I would use would have ANBU at my location in moments, which I regarded as a _very bad thing_. Not that I wasn't confident in my ability to annihilate any ninja, Kage included, within the borders of Grass; I could do it. But revealing myself to the world after spending so much effort to hide would be incredibly idiotic. Also, it may have been my pride speaking, but to use my bloodline against a civilian who couldn't outfight a one-legged Academy student was simply wasteful. Wasteful of chakra, and certainly not worth the damage it would do to my eyes.

_B-b-b-bom. B-b-b-bom._

Quite frankly, the best method would be for Sasaki to simply 'disappear', but he'd have to go _somewhere_, and while the ninja of Kusa may be the dregs of humanity when spoken of in the context of personality and common decency, they were highly competent as far as _shinobi_ go.

_B-b-b-bom. B-b-b-bom._

Disappear, disappear, disappear.

_B-b-b-bom. B-b-b-bom._

Disappear.

_B-b-b-bom. B-b-b-bom._

Disappear…hmm. Disappear?

_B-b-b-bom. B-b-b…_

My fingers paused mid-drum, and slowly, a slight smile suffused my features as my spiraling trains of thought suddenly intersected and zeroed in on a single, unique concept.

_Ahh_, I thought, mentally sighing with true pleasure. _Disappear. Of course…_

_**Author's Note:**__ I am aware that this story is not quite as 'action-packed' as some of the others available, and I'll admit that a good fight gets my blood boiling as much as the next bloke. But it's rare that anyone ever writes Naruto fanfiction from an intellectual point of view, and thus I took the most interesting characters I could and devoted the story to their points of view. This is a thinking man's story, trying humbly to follow in the footsteps of Eiji Yoshikawa, not a mindless slugfest that anyone with a pictorial imagination and a fondness for Jet Li movies could hammer out. But don't worry; there will eventually be some smashing action scenes! Just be patient._


	20. Chapter 7: Unexpected

**Chapter VII**

To be completely honest, I was a little disappointed at how simple it was to get into the Mission Assignment Offices of Kusa. Admittedly, having stolen memories about secret code-words, phrases and terminology from a shinobi who'd actually _been _there before on legitimate business made the threat of discovery as near to zero as makes no odds, but Kusa had something of a reputation in the area of security and secrecy that it was totally failing to live up to.

Kusagakure itself was not a particularly hard place to infiltrate; it posted the same guards around the same walls in the same formation as every other Hidden Village, major or minor, and thus aided (both unwillingly and unwittingly) the superior nin in his or her efforts to penetrate the outer layer of so-called defenses. Those who didn't know any better would usually congratulate themselves on being invisible to the guards and traps surrounding the walls, or they would sniff disdainfully at the pitiful opposition offered by the obviously over-rated country, and to some degree, they would be correct on both accounts.

What they would never realize, until it was far too late, was that unlike the other villages, however, Kusa didn't _try_ to keep enemies out; it focused more on keeping them _in._ Ninja from all countries could easily hop over the walls surrounding the city on their approach, but therein lay a most amusingly vicious snare.

Most of the so-called 'Hidden Villages' are, quite paradoxically, right out in plain sight. After all, the villages depend on clients, and clients have to be able to find the villages, right? And of course, to draw clients requires a show of force, or in this particular application, outstanding and obvious (though not explicitly stated) nonchalance towards the village's enemies. It is an unspoken declaration of inherent superiority implying that there is obviously no need to hide themselves away, as the village's power is such that none would dare cross them. That, in fact, is the origin behind the Hokage mountain memorial in Konoha.

Of course, since nearly _all_ the villages do this (with the one exception being Oto, which really _is_ hidden and which is completely uninterested in anything but their own goals), the effect is almost completely negated. The thing is, all the villages have seal-based defenses preventing, or at least making it difficult for, enemy ninja simply scaling the walls. The guards posted are merely a formality, as the real defenses are something of a secret. An open secret, but a secret nonetheless. What the seals actually do varies by country; Konoha has an invisible 'shield' of sorts that prevents any sentient being from crossing over the walls from the outside. Harmless, but frustrating. It's not a perfect defense, though; destroy the wall, and a section of the field fails. Or, those with enough chakra control can resonate the chakra throughout their own bodies at a frequency slightly offset from that given out by the field and slip through it with littler more than an uncomfortable tingling sensation, unnoticed and unhindered.

All the villages have variations of this; Kumo has (appropriately enough) a barrier of lightning that will flash-fry the unwitting fool who attempts a surreptitious entry. Kiri is protected by superheated steam hot enough to boil the blood in one's body in an instant, and Iwa has stone spires that emerge from the ground with startling speed to gore the bastard stupid enough to test his luck there. Oto is hard enough to locate in the first place, and is riddled with an absolutely _absurd_ number of various traps, which is disturbingly appropriate when one considers the reigning Kage of that village. All are very effective deterrents, but bypassed easily enough by those ninja who are strong and knowledgeable enough.

Kusa, however, is something of an exception. Its game is redolent of the character of the city itself; vicious, cruel, and completely one-sided, this last in more ways than one. Kusa doesn't care so much about keeping the enemy out as it does keeping them in. Seals embedded in the very land surrounding the village are quite content to let whomever so desires through…but on an outbound journey through anywhere but the main gates, a field similar to that of Konoha's stops all but the most powerful in their tracks. One-sided, indeed – a one-sided, nigh-impenetrable barrier!

This strikes most as a rather poor defense at first, as the vast majority of people would consider preventative measures far superior to those of the punitive. Need it be said, though, that Kusa has a very different outlook on crime and punishment? While most would tout the advantage of an ounce of prevention over a pound of cure, Kusa delights in a pound of flesh of an ounce of cure. And it is only on reflection that the truly insidious nature of this 'defense' is unveiled.

What one has to realize is that the invading nin, flush with the success of infiltration and the accomplishment of his mission, will inevitably attempt to leave the same way he entered. After all, he's so clever and stealthy that he went un-noticed by a village with a reputation for security, right? Riding high on his feelings of accomplishment, the sheer shock of being unable to leave is enough to unbalance even the most level-headed of Jounin. And that is when Kusa strikes – revenge! Revenge for the wrongs committed on their land! Revenge for theft, revenge for death, revenge for treachery…!

Kusa admires cruelty and violent reciprocity; the entrapment of foreign shinobi is a game to them. It plays its game of cat-and-mouse _as_ the titular cat, and always makes sure that the deck is heavily stacked against the mouse; the mouse is on _its _territory, unfamiliar territory that it cannot escape from.

With all the expectations of violence and cruelty that had been building up, I found myself slightly befuddled as a barely-attractive secretary politely ushered me into the research hall and left me there without so much as a second glance.

There were a few other ninja in the huge room, most perusing huge tomes that I couldn't have guessed the importance of. In curiosity, I glanced over one nin's shoulders, a squat man with jowls rather like a bulldog, and found myself examining a political manifesto from the early days of Kusa. Sensing me, the man glanced in my direction and appeared to recognize me.

"Oh, back already, Yata?" he said nonchalantly, and I furiously tried to place a name to the ugly face from 'Yata's' memories.

"Hn. Just a stupid, uppity blacksmith in Nami," I grunted, and in that moment, I 'recalled' the man's name. "By all that's holy, Gon, I'll never understand what it is with you and old books."

'Gon' chuckled good-naturedly. "Well, I've told you time and time again, Yata, that those who ignore history-"

"-are doomed to repeat it," I recited along with him, although my tone held considerably more irritation than that of the portly man's. "Yeah, yeah, I still remember the lectures, and I still haven't used a single damn one of 'em!"

Gon shrugged and turned a page in the massive book. "Well, I can't convince you through logic, as such higher concepts are completely thwarted by that impenetrable fortress you call a skull. Mind if I try to do it through alcohol?"

I barked out a laugh. "I wish. Unfortunately, I'm due to report back for reassignment as soon as I augment the original mission report with the results; you know the drill." Understanding warred with disappointment in Gon's eyes.

"Oh, that's right; I forgot about your transfer into Ops. How's that working out, by the way?"

I grinned. It was _damned useful_ having a dead man's memories, and I thanked myself for my foresight. "I hate it, but the money's better – I've been making twice as much per mission. And every time I think about my bank account, the job gets a little easier." We shared a chuckle before Gon turned back to his book.

"Well, if you ever get some free time, let me know, and we'll tear up the bars like old times," he replied, his eyes already flicking across the enormous page. With a light, friendly punch to the shoulder, I sauntered away and ducked into the records room that housed the mission I had come to destroy. Gon's recognition of me was an unexpected bonus, although it was also a harrowing moment.

To my relief, the mission records room was completely deserted, and I swiftly shut and locked the heavy door behind me. Such an action was a little unusual, but not unheard of; some ninja just took secrecy a little farther than others, and didn't want others, even their fellow _shinobi_, know just what they had been doing.

It was child's play to locate all four copies of the mission report, tear them up into little pieces, stuff them in my mouth and down them with a few swallows of water from the canteen I carried. In their place I left a false report of a similar mission, but with names, places, and other little details changed. Making this report and three copies, all officially signed and dated, took me nearly an hour, and it was only as I was closing the drawer where my deceptive papers were now interred that I realized that something was wrong.

An hour isn't an unusual amount of time to spend behind a locked door in the mission records, but to do so without interruption is. And yet there had been not one knock, not one call through the door.

For that matter, I didn't hear _anything_ from the outer room. The room I was in wasn't designed to be soundproof; quite the opposite in fact. Yet the simple fact that I heard nothing aside from my own shallow breathing alarmed me. Slowly unlocking the door and easing it open, I slipped out of the records room and entered into a room decorated in gore.

Everyone who had been in the room as I entered was still there, but in many more pieces than they had been previous. Gon, I noticed, was lying face-down in the pages of his enormous treatise. At least, Gon from the torso up was. The remainder of the affable ninja was lying not a metre away from my left foot. Various bits and pieces of what had once been human peppered the floor, walls, and shelves of scrolls and books haphazardly.

"Ahem."

The simple cough alerted me that I was hardly alone in the blood-splattered room, and I narrowed my eyes in preparation for the activation of my famed _doujutsu_ as I glared at the figure standing in the doorway of the Mission Assignment Offices, blocking the only exit.

"Hey, Itachi. Long time, no see." I dropped the henge, as it was completely pointless, and frowned.

"Well," I said slowly, "this is a bit of a nasty surprise…Deidara."

_**Author's Note:**__ I keep on getting 'Favourite Story +' indicators in my inbox, but no reviews. Why is that?_


	21. Chapter 8: Unimpressive

**Chapter VIII**

"I'm gravely disappointed in your actions. I don't recall giving you leave to act in such an unbecoming manner."

"I do as I see fit!"

"Ahh, there it is, there's that unthinking, unwavering pride that so suffuses your being; you've been so subdued recently that I'd begun to wonder if it was really you I was speaking to." Coldness. "But you do as I order you! I allow you a great amount of leeway, more than I should, but my patience is not endless. Know your place, whelp."

"Don't you threaten me, old man; I am the possessor of-"

"You possess an aberration, an accident of birth, you posses _shit._"

"You certainly desired it badly enough!"

"That it has allowed you the illusion of _mild_ competence to date in spite of all your other failings is a greater portion of why I haven't simply pulled your brain out of your skull through your nostrils. You're strong, boy, but you dance at the pull of _my_ strings, or you risk not dancing at all."

"You should be dead at your age – this is MY war, MY way, MY ambition!"

"An ambition that would have had you laying face-down in a muddy ditch if I hadn't decided to take an interest in you! You'd be feeding flies and maggots now if it weren't for me. You came to _me_ to help you with your petty little vendetta, not the other way around!" Sigh. "Your enthusiasm is commendable, but your brain is soft; you are still quite stupid."

Rage. "Why you useless old fuck!"

Cruel, mocking laughter. "If you are weak in body, gain strength; this tenet you have mastered, and you are well-deserving of praise for it. If you are weak in mind, gain wisdom. You haven't devoted any effort towards the mastery of your own mind, child! You are barely half a human being!"

"I am much more than mere human – I have the power of a god, given to me at birth!"

"Power of a God? Gods are beings to be feared and venerated for their power _and wisdom!_ I look at you and I do not fear you, I pity you! Even beasts can gain strength, and they too roar and rage towards those who bind them, but with utter futility. Oxen are far stronger than an ordinary man, yet they labour under _his_ orders, according to _his_ designs, because this simple farmer has proven that _his_ mind is greater than the whole of the oxen's great power! Are you, too, a dumb plow-beast of the fields, taking pride in that which allows you to be so easily controlled by the yoke of one less than worthy of you?"

"Are you saying that _you_ are less than I, old man?"

Again, laughter. "Hardly. Even as I am now, my power alone would suffocate you were even a fraction of it brought to bear upon you. But I could defeat you in an instant with my mind! I despise your weakness – there! You're dead! I've killed you! And again! I kill you with my eyes, I kill you a thousand times over, and I've yet to move a muscle!"

"What are you talking about?! Have you finally gone mad, old man?"

"You see so much and yet you are blind, in spite of those eyes you take such pride in; how infuriating! You've just died countless times by your own arrogance, drowned in your ineptitude, and yet you haven't the good grace to lie down and accept it. Are you truly so proud to be an imbecile? Learn something of what I teach you, _you incomparable fool_, or one day your head will be smashed against a rock and reveal to all that there was nothing but air inside of it!"

"How dare you!"

"Spare me – I dare because I have already conquered you a hundred times. If you truly wish to throw off my yoke, _beast_, then walk like a human, talk like a human, think like a human, reason like a human! There are countless people in the world, and yet so few true humans. Don't aspire to god-hood; you can only fail to grasp it. Even I know this to be so, I who have conquered death! Aspire for humanity, and you may actually gain a little wisdom."

"Humans are weak, stupid, frail little beings."

"And yet you think to rule over them while you are still so much less than they? How can you?" Again, the harsh laughter. "You are so conceited, boy. Just because you have become strong, you think you are through learning!"

"You said yourself that there was nothing more you could teach me!"

"And did I claim that I would be your only teacher? _Did I?!_ No, of course not! Even with all my power and knowledge, I can't teach you everything I know; some things you must learn from others, and some things you must come upon by yourself."

"Who?"

"Rather you should ask, 'What' as opposed to 'Whom'! I didn't learn everything I know from the beings you call weak and stupid; I took as my teachers the very earth itself; the streams and rivers, the mountains and trees."

"You're insane. How can a tree teach me?"

"And so you show the depth of your ignorance yet again."

"You old bastard, stop toying with me!"

"You have ears; use them! You have eyes; observe! You think with the mind of man, and so are caught within the impenetrable fence of his shallow reason. You, who aspire to the supernatural must first learn the ways of the natural before you can transcend it! Let water be your first teacher. It is a humble element, but water that has carved into the rough, red earth through time; learn from this patience and perseverance. It smoothes even the hardest of stones, grain by grain, so that the stone itself is not aware; learn from this subtlety. When enraged, the earth itself trembles and is torn away like cloth; learn from this power. When it flows, it is formless yet retains form; learn from this grace. When stilled, it becomes pure and transparent; learn from this stillness."

"Stop babbling! I've already learned them from people – what a stupid thing to say!"

"Very well, if you won't listen, then you clearly have no desire to improve. Did you think I gained the power that overwhelms you from my own master? Idiot! If you think you're so invulnerable, then go prove it!"

"I will!"

* * *

Orochimaru's hands twisted, white-knuckled with irritation as Sasuke stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him in a childish fit of pique. He'd once planned to use the boy as his next and ultimate body, but he'd abandoned the idea within the first year of teaching the insufferable little brat. The _Sharingan_ was something he still desired mightily, but he'd given it up as a hopeless ambition; he'd observed the kind of idiotic pride the users took in the _doujutsu_, and he'd been stricken with a sordid realization:

If he too obtained the _Sharingan_, then he would come to rely on it, and like the rest of the now-deceased clan, he'd grow weaker for it. At first, he'd been willing to suffer a little weakness in exchange for such a potent ability, but after careful observation and subtle conversations with the Uchiha boy, he'd learned, much to his chagrin, that the _Sharingan_ was imperfect. He'd even go so far as to call it 'irreparably and fundamentally flawed'.

Orochimaru prided himself on his skill with _jutsu_, not merely the quantity, but on knowing the ins and outs of his techniques better than most ninja knew themselves. In that respect, he and Itachi were unknowingly of like minds. He'd regarded the Uchiha bloodline as a tool to realize his ambitions, but to his immense anger and horror, had discovered it to be a hindrance.

The first time he had become uncomfortably aware of the possibility had been seven months after Sasuke had come to him. It had been during a spar where Sasuke had used several of the _ninjutsu_ he had copied. But he'd used them poorly, and without any consideration of anything but their strengths.

Orochimaru had been surprised at the ineptitude his then-future body had shown, and had interrogated the boy afterwards as to the reason. What he'd learned had shattered all expectations beyond repair. Uchiha Sasuke, number one genius of his class, the Rookie of the Year, the brilliant last scion of the late, great clan…was an idiot.

Not an idiot in the traditional sense, of course; he was hardly a gibbering fool scratching his head at the insurmountable difficulties presented by a doorknob, but an idiot nonetheless. He didn't understand the jutsu he copied, and didn't care about understanding them. He was so fixated upon 'power' that he'd completely ignored everything else. He wasn't concerned about, didn't even _think_ about anything but sheer, animalistic brute force. Lacking grace and elegance, he didn't have the desire to excel, only to conquer.

Worst of all, Orochimaru discovered the true abilities of the boy's _doujutsu._ The _Sharingan_ didn't allow him to break down the _jutsu_ he stole; it was, at its very best, a tool for mimicking the actions of others. The _Sharingan _copied _jutsu_. And that was ALL it did. Uchiha didn't have to _understand_ the technique stolen; they didn't even have to know _how to use it_ – and most of them didn't. It was a sobering realization for Orochimaru when he had determined that, rather than expand the limits of a ninja, the _Sharingan_ instead became nothing more than a refined 'monkey-see, monkey-do' parlour trick.

Sasuke was physically very powerful, but completely lacked the ability to think in the abstract; everything was black and white, everything was linear. And this _moron_ was supposed to be his 'perfect body'?! The vaunted Uchiha bloodline that he had desired, lusted after, _hungered _for…was _base_ _mimicry?_ Nothing but a clan of well-trained _monkeys_!

Even after this depressing revelation, Orochimaru had _still _considered using him as a vessel for his soul. The problems of the _doujutsu_ might not even have been insurmountable, if it weren't for one key fly in the ointment:

When Orochimaru took over a body, his thought processes would be dominant, but still constrained by the limitations of the body he'd inhabited. In layman's terms, if he possessed an idiot, he'd become an idiot. If Orochimaru possessed Sasuke Uchiha, he'd likely lose his ability to dissect and engineer _jutsu_! In a very personal sense, he would cease to be Orochimaru.

Unacceptable!

His teeth ground together in hopeless frustration. If only he'd been able to possess Uchiha _Itachi_! Now, _there_ was a fine mind! Orochimaru detested his failure with the older Uchiha, but had laid his hopes on the younger, more malleable brother. Unfortunately, he had not counted on the reason for said malleability being softness in the head.

As it was, he was endeavouring, though without much success, to replace Kabuto with Sasuke. Kabuto, despite his sudden treachery and disappearance, had been a brilliant subordinate, and had been trained to perfection – a master of all graces, social or not, and a truly worthy successor to the Snake Sennin's twisted legacy in all respects. Sasuke, though, was proving difficult. Orochimaru truly, honestly regretted having wasted five excellent ninja in his successful bid to spirit the boy away from Konoha. With time and much effort, Sasuke might become a well-trained, though headstrong weapon.

But he'd never be a tenth of the _shinobi_ that Itachi was. The best Orochimaru could hope to do was to use him as much as possible before the arrogant little shit went to confront his brother and got himself killed.

He was shaken out of his dark thoughts by a deep chuckle behind him. "Still having trouble with that useless brat?"

Orochimaru spun around, a scowl upon his face. "The child is an imbecile, and you know it," he snapped. "Frankly, if he is a typical example of the Uchiha, I can completely understand why they never amounted to anything more impressive than a civilian police force. 'Elite clan', pah – they're a joke!"

The owner of the other voice shrugged. "Meh, I've never thought much of 'em myself, 'cept for Itachi."

"On that point, we can both agree," Orochimaru grunted. "Of all the Uchiha, Itachi alone has deserved the title of 'genius'. But I doubt you came here just to vilify a dead clan." Yellow eyes narrowed at the other man, who stepped out of the shadows.

"Can't I come see an old friend?" The other man chided him.

A sneer split the face of the Snake Sennin, and he crossed his arms imperiously. "I'm currently not in the mood for your games, and I doubt that we could be considered 'friends' by any stretch of the imagination anymore, so I'll ask you this only once: What do you want, Jiraiya?"


	22. Chapter 9: Unprecedented

**Chapter IX**

Mere moments before I activated my accursed _Sharingan_ and bled the former Iwa-nin into nothingness with _Tsukiyomi_, he surprised me.

"Feh," Deidara said, shaking his head as he shoved his hands in his pockets, assuming a nonthreatening position, totally at odds with the violence with which he had obviously dispatched the Kusa-nin. "You always were a right bastard, Itachi; makes sense that you'd be a giant pain in the ass to track down, yeah."

"I try," I said calmly. Inside, however, I was panicking. Deidara was hardly the strongest of the Akatsuki, but he wasn't a member because of his androgynous good looks. He was an S-class _nukenin_, and he certainly deserved his 'flee on sight' classification in the Bingo Book as much as I deserved mine. I could beat him in a straight-up fight, but the problem with Deidara is that any fight he's involved in is NEVER 'straight-up'.

He, more than anyone else I've ever encountered, including myself, is a master of misdirection, false assumptions, and misleading statements. He's a sociopath, a sadist, and a pyromaniac, and he's good at it.

"And you're damn good at it, yeah," Deidara pointed out. "Took me almost six months to run you down."

"I aim to displease," I quipped, and started to plan a battle strategy. Something must have given my mind away, because Deidara took a hasty step backwards and held his hands up defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I didn't come here for a fight, yeah. I came to deliver a message to you."

"Let me guess," I stated dryly. "'You're dead, Itachi, you just don't know it yet', signed 'Pein'?"

To my surprise, he shook his head. "Oh, hell no. Not that." He gave a half-shrug. "Well, for the record, Pein does want you dead, but he wants to do it himself, yeah." I arched my eyebrows in mock amusement, even as my insides went numb. Though largely unfamiliar with the feeling as far as personal experience went, I'd heard it described often enough to know exactly what it was:

Fear.

"A personal touch," I said in a dull monotone. "I'm honoured."

"Don't be," Deidara said flatly. "He means to make it last a long while. The message is from someone else in the organization."

"Who?" I queried, but Deidara barked out a laugh.

"It's better that you don't know right now." He shrugged. "You need to be updated on a few things, yeah." His face hardened. "Pein ordered the Amekage to pull back _all_ ninja, including undercover ones and those on active missions, within the borders of Ame. Every single ninja was given one mission – to find you and report back at once. Once I picked up your trail, I sent _Iwa-bunshin_ under _Henge _off in several other directions to lay false tracks covering the whole of the Elemental Countries, yeah. Someone else was given the task of cleaning up your real trail, yeah, as well as falsifying birth and employment records for this 'Imura Tacchi' face of yours within the Hoenn Protectorate." He held out a sheaf of papers, and I activated my _Sharingan _at once, looking for any hint of treachery. There was none.

"This is your history, family, girlfriends, and some pictures of 'Tacchi' and various friends and family," the androgynous blonde continued. I pulled out several pictures that clearly showed 'Imura Tacchi' at different ages hanging out with large groups of people. There was even a young 'Imura', soot-stained and grimy, holding up a very plain simple knife with an enormous grin. "That's a picture of the first thing you ever made. It was a knife for your older brother, Shiino. Most of your family was killed when the Kyuubi went on its rampage, though you were in Sunagakure visiting an uncle at the time with your mother, yeah. The uncle died two years ago, leaving an inheritance to a cousin who is mentally deficient and hardly able to spell his own name, and who lives with a caretaker near the western edge of Sunagakure."

He gave me a pointed look. "Oh, and the merchant your clone was watching? Taken care of. You don't have to worry about whatever crazy complicated plan you were thinking up, 'cause just about everyone in Kusa knows that the skinny fuck got offed by me. Your little blacksmith persona is safe."

I was stunned by the sheer amount of information in the packet, even in as brief a period of time as I took to examine it. This was _far_ beyond the capabilities of a single person. I gave Deidara an incredulous look. "Deidara, this is _incredible_. Just how many in Akatsuki are actively working against it?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Not sure about your old partner's motivations, yeah; not after Pein beat the shit out of him for not getting that ring of yours back. Yeah, I'd place my money on the loyalists being Kakuzu, Konan, and Zetsu, with Tobi being iffy and Hidan being a psycho fucker. He'll hold with Pein, though, yeah."

My eyes narrowed. "But…with Sasori dead and myself removed, that leaves only you and Kisame as…" I scowled at him harshly, but the smirk on his features only got broader. "You won't tell me which ones I can trust!"

"Nope!" The blonde ninja replied flippantly, before his face took on a serious expression. "Listen up good, Itachi, 'cause I'm probably going to die soon. _Keep the Kyuubi brat safe!_"

My eyes widened. I opened my mouth to say something, but my former colleague cut me off with a sharp gesture.

"No, you listen to me! If Pein gets his hands on the damned fox, this world's gonna end, yeah. And explosions are only fun if you're not the ones caught up in it." He lowered his voice dangerously. "After today, you are to avoid all contact with _anyone_ in Akatsuki. Don't approach me, and don't let me approach you, yeah. _All_ contact, kid. I don't care if Konan splays herself naked and offers to give you a titty-fuck, yeah? You know the cloaks; you see 'em, you _run_."

"But…" I started, bewildered.

"No time for that, yeah! You understand?"

I nodded, speechless for the first time that I could remember, and Deidara nodded sharply. "One last thing."

"Yeah?"

He frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. "I was told to tell you to, and I quote, '_break this vicious __**circle**_'," he said, placing a clear emphasis on the word 'circle'. "Supposedly, you would know what that means, yeah."

I didn't, but I didn't indicate it to him. I looked him straight in the eye and nodded.

"Thank you, Deidara."

He shook his head. "Don't thank me, Itachi; I'm already dead, yeah. We can't keep this secret forever, and when it breaks, I'll be the first one to die." He pointed at me. "If you want to thank me, then honour my memory by keeping Uzumaki Naruto alive, yeah."

Then he was gone. I was stunned into immobility for a few seconds, but quickly shook it off. I had to get out, and _fast_. Dispelling the clone that had been watching Sasaki, I quickly learned that Deidara hadn't been lying – my clone had seen the distinctive cloak enter the house less than thirty seconds before one of the upper windows had suddenly been painted red. Entering invisibly, the clone had come across the mangled remains of a very surprised Sasaki Yamato…'remains' being comprised of one hand, a head, and what had probably once been a torso.

I bolted, slipping through the one-way field around Kusa and heading northeast as quickly as possible.

As unexpectedly helpful as Deidara had been, as interesting and simultaneously confusing as his comments were, there was no way in hell that I was getting involved in the Uzumaki brat's problems.

I had plenty of my own to worry about at the moment, not the least of which had been the frightening ease with which I had been discovered. That Deidara seemed to be actively fighting Akatsuki at the moment, that he had risked his life to warn me made no difference.

Somewhere, somehow, I had slipped up.

_**Author's Note: **__Three chapters in 1 day. Who'd'a'thunkit?_


	23. Chapter 10: Unearthed

**Chapter X**

"Fucking old pervert," Naruto Uzumaki grumbled as he blasted through the mountainous terrain that somewhere within housed the ninja village of Kumogakure, "sending me to fucking Kumo. 'Oh, you'll find it somehow'," he mocked. "'You've been trained by the number one legendary ninja, the man who makes grown men weep with envy and grown women'…what a load of bullshit! I'll bet," he theorized darkly, bounding from spire to spire, twisting his head back and forth in a vain attempt to locate the damned city, "that the old hentai isn't really meeting with a 'source'…I bet he's _really_ in a bar somewhere getting drunk and hitting on women!"

Naruto powered himself over a sheer chasm cut out of the curious black stone that made up the whole of the _Hyousankei_ mountain range. The stuff was really kind of pretty, if he said so himself (which he did); it was glossy and iridescent, and almost seemed to glow a deep, potent green when the light hit it at just the right angle. He'd already grabbed a handful of shards and shoved them in his pocket – just the thing to get made into jewelry for Sakura-chan!

Well, when he had the chance to go back to Konoha for any decent length of time, of course.

Naruto frowned and threw himself into an impressive climbing triple-kick jump up a narrow chimney of stone that looked like it had once been a volcanic flue. It really wasn't all that fair, he decided, that he'd spent all of two days with Sakura-chan in the last seven years, and both of those had been mostly devoted to rescuing Gaara from Akatsuki.

In all honesty, he'd never been happier that Jiraiya had been wrong about something. His teacher had originally estimated three years before Orochimaru would be able to steal Sasuke-teme's body as his own, but when two and a half years of intensive training had come and gone, and he'd started to get anxious about the time limit, Jiraiya had flatly explained that Orochimaru, for some unexplainable reason, had completely abandoned his plans for his ex-teammate.

Naruto kicked out one last time and flipped up to the top of the long-dormant flue, and cast his gaze around in all directions. He'd been pretty excited about the news regarding Sasuke, but that had come crashing down when the Toad Sennin had crushed his last remaining hopes of retrieving the errant Uchiha.

"Brat," Jiraiya had said sternly, "you're not ever going to bring him back. He's not a ninja of Konoha anymore; he's an Oto-nin. And that makes him the enemy."

"But he's still my team-mate!" Naruto had protested, right before a broad hand had smashed into his cheek and sent him reeling. Gaping at the fierce countenance of his teacher, the blond could only ask 'why'.

"Uchiha Sasuke is not now, nor has he ever been, your team-mate," Jiraiya said coldly. "Team-mates look out for one another. Team-mates help one another. Team-mates _trust_ one another. And when has Sasuke _ever_ done any of that for you?"

"He's still my friend-"

"And team-mates don't shove a fucking _Chidori_ through each other's chests!" Jiraiya had bellowed. "Get it through your thick skull, Naruto – Uchiha Sasuke doesn't give a flying _fuck_ about you!" Naruto, of course, had protested.

"But I'm fine now!" Another broad palm had sent him spinning to the ground.

"You stupid little shit! Do you think that really _matters_?! The _Chidori _is an A-class _assassination jutsu. _You got better because you have Kyuubi in you." Jiraiya had knelt down, grabbed Naruto's chin and forced the blonde boy to look him straight in the eye. "Do you think you would have survived if you didn't?"

"Well…no, but-"

"So ask yourself this," the grey-haired Sennin had ordered grimly. "Did Sasuke _know_ you had the Kyuubi before he used that technique?"

_No, he didn't_, Naruto admitted to himself, feeling goosebumps raise across his skin as a crisp wind howled its way past him. And he'd been forced to face the uncomfortable, though undeniable facts:

Sasuke wasn't his team-mate.

Sasuke wasn't his friend.

Sasuke wasn't…anything.

Sasuke had tried to kill him. Not 'wound', not 'incapacitate', not 'slow down'…**kill**. As in 'dead'. As in **permanently dead**. Sasuke _hated _Naruto just as much as the villagers did, and he'd reached that level of hatred without the slightest inkling that, within his team-mate's body lay the fiercest, most powerful _Bijuu_ of the ancient world – the Kyuubi.

Uchiha Sasuke was his…was Konoha's…_enemy_. Just as much as Akatsuki, just as much as Orochimaru, just as much as Iwa, as Kusa, as Kiri. Just as much as Zabuza had been. As Haku. As Gatou, as the Demon Brothers, as Kabuto as Suna had been, as Mizuki had been. As much as _Kyuubi _was the enemy, so was Sasuke.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, made even more so by the fact that he'd put off doing so for so long, but he'd accepted it, albeit reluctantly. And so his goal had changed from 'rescuing' Sasuke to 'beating the shit out of him and dragging the ungrateful ass back to Konoha for summary trial and execution'. Because frankly, as much as Naruto wanted to deny it, he knew that as much as Konoha loved their precious bloodlines, they hated traitors even more.

Sasuke was a dead man if he set foot anywhere near Konoha or her allies. Even Sakura knew that, and though she and Naruto both hoped for the best, 'the best' for Sasuke would involve a quick death after having his genitals surgically removed and frozen so that the Uchiha bloodline would still be within the hands of Konoha.

The worst would have Sasuke sent to Ibiki, who would be given a windowless room with a lock and told to 'have fun'. Naruto shuddered; he'd had the opportunity to observe the scarred _Tokubetsu Jounin _while the man worked, and while he couldn't fault Ibiki's efficiency, the sort of things that the Interrogation Specialist thought up to 'convince' prisoners was nightmare-inducing at best and mind-breaking at worst. The man was well-suited for his job; he was a complete sadist.

Really – what kind of man would think of slowly ripping out fingernails and then scratching the raw flesh underneath with an ice-cold needle for hours, actually scraping away long enough to reach bone before asking a _single_ question?

His eyes suddenly caught something, a strange angle amid the natural form of the mountain side. Straining his eyes, he could slowly make out a straight line…and there it intersected another…and there an angle, but one that made a…

It was a house, he realized with a start. A house built from and set into the very stone of the mountain itself. It wasn't Kumo; he knew that as soon as he saw it. But _a _house inevitably meant _someone_, and that _someone_ might be able to set him on the right track for Kumo itself. Now the only question was how to approach the inhabitants of said-

"Hey, now, little leaf mouse, whatcha doin' starin' at my house? Don't be so rude, dude, 'cause ya might make me cry, and then you'd hafta die."

Naruto whipped around at the deep voice, startled that he hadn't sensed anyone near him. The dark-skinned, white-haired, goateed man was _huge_; easily more than a head taller than Naruto himself, and so heavily muscled that, for a brief moment, the Kyuubi gaoler felt almost envious. Immediately afterward, he was horrified at the train of thought his mind was taking him down, so he expunged that bit from his head with his true-fire anti-gay-thought cure-all:

_Tits and Ramen! Tits and Ramen! Lots and lots of tits and Ramen!_

Potentially homoerotic thoughts successfully eliminated, he looked up at the giant and noticed a Kumo _hitai-ate_ on top of his head.

_Finally!_ Naruto sighed in relief, and he threw the man a quick, perfunctory salute to show that he intended no hostilities.

"That's your house, then?"

"That's what I said, yellow-head. But don't be rude, little dude, I'm not in the mood. What's your name, orange-brain?"

Catching himself, he dropped his head in slight embarrassment. "Oh, yeah; I'm Uzumaki Naruto, by the way. From Konoha," he clarified at the older man's nonplused expression. "Hey, you're from Kumo, right? Boy, am I glad to see you," he said cheerfully. "I've been looking for the place all damn day without any luck."

The man wore dark sunglasses that hid his eyes, but Naruto got the distinct impression that the man was looking him up and down, even though the Kumo _shinobi_'s head didn't move in the slightest. After several uncomfortable moments, dark lips cracked apart and uttered forth three lines that were completely incomprehensible to the boy :

"'chu think you're talkin' to now, little orange cow? I'm Killer Bee, that's my name, that's me! I'm'a big ball'a killa, fella, not a guide, and beside, why should I help you, when you talk so uncool? Get a little rhythm in your walk, then we'll talk, you and me, see?"

The blonde genin cocked his head to the side as he puzzled his way through the curious (though really, really cool, in his opinion) manner of speech. It took him a few minutes and a leap of logic and faith or two, but he finally arrived at what he considered an adequate translation.

"So," he said slowly, "You're not gonna take me there unless I… rhyme…when I talk?"

The so-called 'Killer Bee' (which Naruto privately lamented as being a _much_ cooler name than plain old 'Naruto' [even if it WAS a Ramen topping!]) flashed a quick grin, revealing startlingly white teeth that shone in sharp relief to the unusually dark skin around it.

"So you hear whatcha should, but your talkin's still no good! You want my time? You gotta rhyme. Or we can fight, that's alright. But I tell you now that I'm bad when I'm mad, so take your choice, and lemme hear your voice."

Naruto grinned. Rhyming was easy, and if it got this big guy to help? So much the better! Striking a pose, he pointed dramatically at the man and bellowed.

"Look at me, Killer Bee! I need a hand, understand, 'cause my mission's not complete, and that ain't sweet! I'll say it real loud, I gotta get to Cloud, 'cause the Perv wants me there, but all I see around me is air! So gimme a yelp if you think you can help!"

Killer Bee's left eyebrow arched as he uncrossed his massive arms. "Not too crude, little dude," the Kumo shinobi praised, "and I like what you said, yellow-head. But you just ain't convincin' me, you see? Cloud and Leaf, I believe, ain't feeling real nice to one another, little brother, so why should I letcha folla? Got a reason? I wanna hear ya holla, if it's good, then I'll do what I should. And if it ain't?" The mouth became a vicious smirk. "You become red paint."

The container of the Kyuubi pursed his lips in thought. _Okay_, he corrected himself mentally, _maybe rhyming _isn't_ quite as easy as I thought. Damn! How am I gonna get through this in rhyme?_

"Don't leave me hangin'," Killer Bee cautioned, "or I'll be bangin' my fist into you, make ya turn into goo."

"Alright, motherfucker, listen up here, sucker, 'cause I'm gonna say this one time, and it's a hellova rhyme," Naruto said, taking a quick gamble with the profanities. "My boss is a tool; he's so uncool, he's Jiraiya the Toad Sage, writes porn onna page, which makes the Hokage rage! I'm his student, and he sent me, Killer Bee, to come here this season for a reason to get in touch with the Kage you serve, and I think I deserve to get some one-on-one time after alla this rhyme and I'm 'bout to go blind 'cause I can't seem to find the village in these mountains, so my words like a fountain are askin' you please, I get down on my knees! Bring me there fast, it's a pain in my ass, and I promise no trouble so get on the double 'cause I hate to burst your bubble though this rhyming is cool, and I think it rules, I'm about to go mad, and I ain't so bad, so bring me to your pad!"

Taking a deep gulp of air, Naruto watched Killer Bee, who looked faintly stunned at the rhyming verbal explosion that had poured forth from the Toad Sennin's apprentice in a single breath. There was no movement for what seemed like ages, which was in reality almost five minutes, and then a slow grin broke out on Killer Bee's face, growing wider and wider until it showed every single one of his impressively white teeth.

"Uzumaki, you said, yellow-head? I won't fight, you're alright! You sure you're a beginner, 'cause I proclaim you the winner! Follow me, and you'll see Killer Bee go home to his hive, ain't no dive. Pick up your feet, 'cause it's gonna be sweet! And just for you, little dude, you don't gotta rhyme all the time."

"Phew," Naruto said, greatly relieved, "I don't know how much more I could manage. You're pretty cool, Bee-san." As the taller man blasted off through the mountains, the blonde on his left side, Naruto turned to him and asked, "Say, do you like Ramen?"

_**Author's Note**__: I like Kirabi (Killer Bee) a LOT. He's a _fun _character, and I figured that, with what we've seen of him in the manga, if Naruto and he ever got together, they could create some massively amusing havoc. The opportunity was too good to pass up!_

_Four chapters in 2 days; unbelievable! But this comes at the crest of a wave of bad news – it'll be a little while before I get the next chapter done. Things are starting to come to a head, story-wise, and I need to take some time to re-read what I've got written thus far and start bringing in the actual plot that all 50,000 words previous have been leading up to._

_By the beginning of the third arc, things will start really taking off._

_Bloodreaver Alpha_


	24. Chapter 11: Unpredictable

**Chapter XI**

_**Author's Note: **__To the reviewer Krillian, please sign in next time you review – thanks for your review, but when I want to get in touch with the reviewers, it's difficult to do so when they review anonymously. To answer your question regarding Naruto and Kirabi, let's just say that Jiraiya is going to regret sending Naruto to Kumo, though not for the reasons that probably come to mind first._

_To everyone else, some info – I know that I have a lot of loose ends already, and I actually got a review from _Hidden Among the Crows_ who was concerned that I might have made this story 'too complex'. People, I THRIVE on complexity. I am an intellectual myself; I'm a bibliophile, a literary glutton of the first degree, a graduate of the University of Exeter (Streatham Campus) where I double-premiered in Computer Science and Business Economics and graduated with honours. I build computers for fun; I'm a home-grown freelance computer trouble-shooter for two local businesses, as well as for my own business. I can actually work the words 'execrable' and 'diphthong' into a conversation and not sound like a pompous arse. I say this with justifiable pride and even some arrogance: I am a genius, and my intelligence quotient of 188 backs that up admirably._

_I tell you this now because I am not going to shy away from dragging you down several simultaneous literary roads. I'm going to take great pleasure in pulling your brain in eight or nine separate directions before I release and watch it snap back like a rubber-band. I have great plans for this story, one of which is to make it two-hundred-fifty-thousand words at LEAST, and somewhere around one hundred chapters in length, if not MORE._

_You're all in for a bit of a ride, so strap yourself in and enjoy it._

_On a slightly more humble note, thank you to the very few readers who have actually reviewed this story. It's frustrating to see shorter, vastly inferior stories with 600+ reviews and to compare that with my current tally (as of this writing) of 34. I buoy my sagging ego, healthy otherwise it may be, with the singular concept that this is proof of quality over quantity._

_And then I remember that most of the readers on FF dot net are a bunch of mindless, self-serving twats without the slightest _inkling _as to what actually constitutes 'quality'. So fuck you, you tossers, and let me write.

* * *

  
_

Two legendary _shinobi_ regarded each other across the small table in a secluded room deep within the bowels of Otogakure; one renowned for his physical prowess and his perverted ways, the other for his sheer knowledge of _ninjutsu_ and a diabolical cunningness.

"So, Snake Face," Jiraiya said amicably, subtly checking the sakè that his one-time team-mate had poured him for poison, finding none, and then surreptitiously swallowing several broad-spectrum antidote pills anyway, "aside from plotting your home village's destruction, performing medical sins against the gods and trying to beat the sheer stupid out from that Uchiha brat's head, what have you been up to?"

Orochimaru's thin lips compressed even further as he swirled the green tea within his cup own. "Jiraiya, if I wanted to poison you," he said dryly, examining the contents of his ceramic teacup with a critical eye, "I would do it with something that wouldn't be neutralized by broad-spectrum antidotes." As the gray-haired man giggled in embarrassment at being caught, the Snake Sennin's gaze took on a thoughtful mien.

"…and I sure as hell wouldn't waste good sakè in doing so, either," he mused, and Jiraiya let loose with an honest laugh.

"Hah! Would it matter? You don't drink anyway!" Jiraiya tossed back another saucer before using the empty cup to gesture at the pale man across from him. "And you certainly didn't answer my question."

Yellow eyes rolling, Orochimaru snorted. "I've been keeping tabs on Akatsuki, as you well know. Or you ought to, at least, seeing as how you're paying me to do so. And as long as we're on the subject of sakè, you useless pervert, I prefer vices that don't have such an unpleasant effect upon the body." He gave his former comrade a pointed look. "_Or_ on the mind."

"No," Jiraiya countered, ignoring the blatant criticism of his lifestyle, "you prefer to torture people." To this Orochimaru shrugged, not the slightest bit offended.

"You call it torture," the pale man responded, taking a delicate sip of the tea. "I happen to consider it 'aggressive research'." His eyes closed in rapture as the subtle fragrance filled his nostrils before he swallowed. It was a startling, incongruous sight to behold, this murderer and traitor taking honest pleasure in a well-brewed cup of tea, but, Jiraiya reflected, Orochimaru was like that.

He really had no trust or liking for his ex-team-mate, but there were several qualities that the former Konoha-nin had that were of neutral interest to the gray-haired Sennin, and even a few that were worthy of being admired. The man was cruel, callous, insidiously clever and fiendishly difficult to pin down, but he enjoyed some strikingly benign luxuries, of which a good cup of tea was one. Personally, Jiraiya couldn't stand the bitter liquid (or any non-alcoholic drink, for that matter), but he knew enough about it to recognize the high-quality stuff, the prices of which put even his top-notch sakè to shame, and Orochimaru was something of a hedonist in his own way. Fine tea and old books, even those not dealing with _ninjutsu _in the slightest, were two of the man's simpler pleasures, although he also found some truly twisted things amusing as well.

Despite his pointed comments, Jiraiya knew that his pale ex-comrade never partook of cruelty for cruelty's sake. Everything was a step towards a goal, and every action a carefully calculated manoeuver. An excellent example of this was Orochimaru's avoidance, and more to the point, _condemnation_ of the _Jashin_ religion. For a man obsessed with immortality to ignore such a promising source of it over thusly-described 'needlessly brutal' rituals was testament to both the depravities of the religion and of his own unwillingness to cross his own boundaries, wide though they may be.

"That my experiments occasionally cause extreme pain to the subject is truly unfortunate," Orochimaru continued, casually refilling his former team-mate's saucer, and Jiraiya was struck by how oddly comfortable the situation would have seemed to anyone looking in on the two of them. "But anesthetics strong enough to dull the pain would render the subject unconscious, and the information gained during the processes themselves is invaluable."

Jiraiya grunted and let the matter drop. In all honestly, he didn't really care about Orochimaru's experiments that much. They disturbed him, but he wasn't so naïve as to believe that other nations weren't pursuing similar methods on the captured nin who had been foolish enough to consider captive life a better alternative to no life at all.

As distasteful as the whole process was, the Toad Sennin was well aware that even Konoha did similar experiments. Frankly, they couldn't afford not to – a nin's body held so much information, housed secrets kept within the very flesh itself, that to ignore such a source out of a sense of 'fair-play' or 'morality' was tantamount to treason. Information, so much more than skill, or power, or speed, or techniques, was life to a ninja.

Orochimaru's crime had been that he'd taken to experimenting on his own countrymen.

And at that point, he hadn't even been using living subjects. The great S-class _nukenin_'s only tangible crimes had been…graverobbing and corpse desecration. That the bodies were buried with Leaf _hitai-ate _was the only thing separating him from enjoying the full backing of Konoha.

It wasn't even that bad of a crime, all considered – maybe worthy of a stiff fine or an official demerit. But set against the backdrop of a war, the loss of his coveted _Hokage_ position to the clan-less Namikaze brat, and his declared intent of furthering his experiments, his actions had taken on a treasonous mantle, and it would have been suicidal to stay.

"I'm not going to get dragged into this discussion again," Naruto's teacher grumbled, holding up his hands in mock-surrender. "Not a medic by any stretch of the imagination, and frankly, I don't really care what you do in your free time." The pale man's lips twisted into an unpleasant grin.

"Philistine," Orochimaru chastised mockingly, his very white teeth glinting wickedly. "Akatsuki has taken some…unusual steps after a certain incident. You've probably heard the rumour that Uchiha Itachi has abandoned my old organization. I can confirm this to be true."

_So can I,_ Jiraiya thought, darkly amused, _and my source is better than yours_.

"The leader of Akatsuki," Orochimaru continued, "Is a man who goes by the name of 'Pein', of all things, and he's less than pleased with his former subordinate's actions." The Snake Sennin barked out a laugh. "If you thought Ame was xenophobic before, then you haven't seen what it's like now. Ame has closed itself off completely – all of their _shinobi_ were pulled from their missions, defaulting on a great number of them, and drawn back to Ame itself."

"An interesting development," Jiraiya grunted. "Who'd have thought that Hanzo could be killed by this 'Pein' fellow?"

"Yes, quite startling," the pale-faced man agreed. "A man that even you, me, and princess Tsunade couldn't hope to defeat, even in our prime…laid low by a single man." The curious earrings Orochimaru wore glinted as he shook his head. "This may also interest you. Do you remember those three children in Ame during the war? The ones I advised to put out of their misery?"

"I do, poor kids…" Jiraiya looked up sharply from his sakè as his source laughed once.

"Maybe not as poor as you think, hmm?" Orochimaru taunted, and Jiraiya's hackles rose.

"What do you mean?"

Yellow eyes glinted in a disturbing manner as the former Konoha-nin bared his teeth in a grin. "Oh, just that this 'Pein' fellow seems to be possessed of a most…_unique_ bloodline. A _doujutsu_, in fact." Jiraiya's face paled.

"It can't be!"

"It isn't," Orochimaru acknowledged. "Not completely," he amended, seeing the confusion evident on his ex-comrade's face. "The boy Nagato had the _Rin'negan_, and you'll remember him as a slight child with dark hair. Quite the simpering little weakling. But no," the Snake Sennin continued, ignoring the angry glare from the man across the table as he finished off his cup of tea and poured himself another, "this 'Pein' fellow is hardly Nagato. But he certainly has the _Rin'negan_."

"Impossible!"

"Is it really?" Orochimaru said coldly. "Bloodline theft is hardly an exact science, but it isn't impossible; I know that for a fact. _And so do you_, Jiraiya, with your village's precious little Hatake, the last loyal _Sharingan _user! I don't know who 'Pein' really is, but he has ties to Ame, and he has the _Rin'negan, _so I find it very likely that he appropriated those eyes from your precious little orphan student…but of course, I meant Nagato; after all, you've _only_ trained orphans, haven't you? It would be _dreadfully _impolite of me to be so general when referring to of whom I am speaking!"

Gritting his teeth, Jiraiya forced himself not to lash out. Only Orochimaru, it seemed, could whip him into a rage like this with so little effort. "One could say the same of you, you bastard snake," he retorted, his voice dangerously low. Chuckling, the aforementioned 'bastard snake' raised his glass in acknowledgement of the point.

"Ah, _touché,_ my 'old friend', _touché! _A well-placed blow, indeed. Ah-ha, the cruel ironies that life throws us into…I love it!" The dark-haired man giggled before breaking out into wicked laughter.

He was still chortling long after Jiraiya had gone.

* * *

"What, leaving so soon?" Itachi whipped around, disturbed that he hadn't heard anyone come in, but relaxed slightly on seeing that it was only Tayuya. He grunted and threw what few clothes he owned into a container.

"This doesn't concern you," he stated flatly, to which the redhead arched her eyebrows.

"Oh, doesn't it?" She asked mockingly, crossing her arms underneath her breasts. In another time and another place, Itachi might have taken the time to ogle them surreptitiously in appreciation, but time was a commodity that he was rapidly running low on, making it all the more valuable.

"No, not a bit," the _nukenin _twice over replied curtly. "I thought I could settle down here and have some peace and quiet. But I decided that, as nice as this place is, I'm not comfortable living here." Tayuya laughed, causing the elder Uchiha to pause in his activities, scrolls in hand.

"So that's why you're packing up in the middle of the night?" The redhead chastised. "Planning to sneak off like a coward?" A twitch in his left eye was the only indicator that the mark had landed.

"I'd like to leave as soon as possible; that's all there is to this."

A hand slashed out, cleaving through the neck of an imaginary person, as well as through the poor excuse. "Bullshit," Tayuya said roughly. "I know why you're leaving."

Turning, Itachi leveled a piercing glare at the woman. "Somehow," he snapped, "I doubt that, but believe whatever you want."

"It's because someone found you, isn't it?"

"…" The surprise he felt must have been smeared across his face plainly, because she snorted in amusement. Itachi quickly schooled his features, but the damage had been done.

"Don't give me that look; I know you're running. I did it myself years ago."

Itachi frowned and put down the scrolls, turning to face the redheaded woman head-on. "So you know." It was more a statement than an actual question, as if he'd known it but hadn't wanted to believe it.

Tayuya shrugged airily. "I had my suspicions," she acknowledged. "Frankly, for a supposed 'genius', you're kind of a fuckin' idiot."

"And you're not the queen of subtlety yourself, you know, Tayuya of the Sound Four."

The buxom woman scowled in displeasure at the title, baring her teeth, the incisors of which were slightly more pointed than what one might consider normal. Itachi took note of this fact.

"Don't call me that!" she snapped. "I haven't been that stupid bitch for almost a decade. You really want a contest to decide who has the most dirty laundry to air, Uchiha Itachi?"

_Crash. _Tayuya jumped involuntarily as Itachi's fist demolished an innocent pane of glass.

"God-fucking-dammit!" The Uchiha bellowed in uncharacteristic rage. "Does everyone I meet know who I am?! By all that's holy – if it's not some stupid Iwa border guard, it's Yuki _oi-nin _or even the fucking Akatsuki! Now it's some ex-nin-turned-civilian!"

"Actually, most of the town knows," the redhead corrected, a little shocked by his outburst.

"Wha…? And I supposed I have you to thank for that, too?"

Successfully regaining her composure, the woman scoffed and leaned up against a wall, arms akimbo as Itachi unrolled a single blank scroll, dipped a brush into ink, and began to draw on the paper with quick, decisive motions.

"Hardly! You obviously haven't heard of the fucking concept of 'subtlety'," the former member of the Sound Four lectured dryly. "You move way too quietly for a civvie, dumbass; I spotted it right off the fucking bat when I first saw you, and even civilians are gonna notice it after a while. And how many normal people move to a new city and completely _refuse_ to make friends? Every day you go to work and then hole yourself up in here, unless you need food or something." She threw up her hands in mock-disgust. "Fuck; most _ninja_ aren't even that goddamned anti-social! You're so utilitarian that even the dumber ones suspect it. So don't blame me for the fact that you got hit in the head by the +30 Club of Stupid."

"So everyone knows I'm a ninja." Forty-nine slashes of the brush, a single handsign, and all of Itachi's worldly possessions vanished into a single scroll, which he rolled up and stuck in his shirt.

"And for the most part," Tayuya said sternly, "they don't care. I mean, fuck! Everyone knows that _I'm_ a former nin, and they couldn't care less. It's not even like you and I are the only fucking ones; we've got retired nin from every single one of the elemental countries living here, and the civvies couldn't give a flying fuck about it."

Itachi paused, honestly a little surprised. "So, nobody really cares that I'm a mass-murdering ex-nin?" He ventured cautiously, to which Tayuya gave a half-shrug, indicating her own indifference to the question.

"Most of 'em take more interest in the fact that you won't let ninja in your store, and that's only because they find the sheer irony of it amusing. Remember, these shits consider _Momochi Zabuza_ a fucking hero, and he was helping Gatou up until the end. They're an odd bunch."

_Creak. _The door swung open, and Itachi stepped out into the cool of the night, the moonlight pale and diffuse as the heat of the day died. Tayuya followed him into the mostly-deserted street.

"So what, you're really just going to up and leave? Nobody really gives a fuck who you are, let alone your reasons for being here. As long as you don't cause trouble for us, we don't care."

With a jerk, Itachi's head swung up and focused on a spot several metres above her head. A bitter laugh emanated from this throat. "Well, start caring," he advised darkly, "because I think I'm just about to make some trouble."

"Wha-?" A flare of hostile _chakra_ interrupted her, and she swung around in time to witness a Konoha _oi-nin_ drop from the shadows of the roof into the pale moonlight. The voice was flat, almost filtered as the man revealed his intent.

"Uchiha Itachi. In accordance with the will of the Hokage, I am here to kill you; resist if you feel like amusing me. Accept your fate quietly and I will make it painless."

**EDIT: 14/02/09, 2321 – Well, I took my girlfriend out to a play in West London (Evita), before which we popped around a museum for a bit before dragging her back to my flat and making a peach pie, got a very sticky though enjoyably thorough snog afterwards, and decided that I was damned sure going to fix up this chapter! So I spent thirty minutes and did so. **

**I am satisfied with it now.**


	25. Chapter 12: Unintimidated

**Chapter XII**

_**Author's Note:**__ Wow. Got over 20 "Favourite Author +" and "Story Alert +" in my inbox in the two days since I posted my least-favourite chapter. __**I HAVE FIXED THE SECOND HALF OF THE LAST CHAPTER; GO BACK AND RE-READ IT!**_

_To the reviewer _Re'ozul_ – I never said that the first part of Arc II, Chapter VIII was between Sasuke and Orochimaru, nor did I say that it was between Pein and Madara. *grins wickedly* Having the readers assume that, of course, suits my purposes quite well. It may be the one, the other, or something else entirely different! Thank you for your review – sign in, though – I like being able to respond to reviewers one-on-one._

_Oh, and here's a Character update for the Naruto Fanfiction filters:_

**On Thu, Feb 5, 2009 at 3:14 AM, XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX wrote:**

In the Naruto Fanfiction section, you seem to eschew the Character of Killer Bee (or, in the Anglicised Romaji, 'Kirabi'). Yet you include _minor characters_ from the filler arcs. I consider this as something of a grave oversight, seeing as Kirabi is the container for the 8-tailed _ushi-oni_ and is rapidly becoming a fan favourite character.

Might I suggest that you rectify this as soon as possible?

Sincerely,

Bloodreaver Alpha

**On Fri, Feb 6, 2009 6:42 AM, Categories [] wrote:**

Added

* * *

"No way!" Naruto gasped, staring at the taller man as they bounded through the mountains as Kirabi led the way to the Village Hidden Amongst the Clouds. "_You're_ a _Jinchuuriki_, too?"

Killer Bee (or Kirabi, as he was actually called) grinned and nodded. "It's true, I promise you. Got the Eight-Tailed beast, not the last, not the least. 'Salright for a demon, don't bother me none when I'm dreamin'; almost pals you might say, though that isn't to say I really trust it that much, so it isn't a crutch."

That brought Naruto up short. "Waitaminute," he protested (loudly, as was typical of him, but the Kumo _Jinchuuriki_ didn't seem to mind), pointing his finger at the tanned man, "You actually get along with it?"

Kirabi shrugged. "I sure do, let me tell you. It's give and take, and when I'm awake, I let it see Killer Bee's home country and let it in on the win, and the thrill of the kill. Of course," he admitted, "it's a pretty calm bastard, so with _Kyuubi_ you might get plastered if you don't watch your step; around that fox, if you're inept he'll eat you instead of greet you."

"Oh," Naruto said, a pained grimace on his face. "Well, that may be a problem. The bastard fox and I don't get along real well."

Using his broad hands to power himself over a natural wall in the rock, Kirabi frowned, daylight reflecting off of his sunglasses. "That's bad, to make it mad." He shot a glance towards the Konoha-nin. "The thing you gotta discover, my orange-wearin' brother, is that the demons ain't liars, and they each got their own desires. You gotta just give and take, just don't give so much that you break." Naruto easily replicated the tanned ninja's feat, and as their feet landed on the rocks behind it, the blonde frowned.

"Yeah, but the only thing the fox wants is to be set free so that it can 'crunch the little yellow monkey between its teeth'," Naruto parroted mockingly.

"That's 'cause he's been dissed; you don't wanna piss off that thing or else it'll bring a whole lotta trouble to you on the double. I suspect that you ain't treatin' him with respect."

"Aw, come _on!_ _Respect_?!" Naruto whined. "It's a giant fucking fox that wants to blow shit up and kill people! How the hell am I supposed to respect…_that?_"

The Kumo-nin frowned in mild disapproval. "The demons are forces of the earth, and they each deserve it, or else they'll treat you like shit. Be polite, and they'll treat you alright."

Kirabi jumped off of a precipice and plummeted several hundred feet to land heavily on a small plateau. Naruto followed him, mulling over the advice that the older _Jinchuuriki_ had given him. There was silence between the two of them, save for the crunching of rock and gravel beneath their feet as they travelled, until the Kumo-nin broke it several minutes later.

"Take a look, my friend , 'cause we're just about at the end."

Naruto looked.

A veritable sea of clouds blanketed the upper spire of an enormous pillar of rock, just beneath which Naruto and Kirabi could see the walls of a grand city rise up, fashioned of the same iridescent black stone of the mountain itself. Naruto's breath was taken away at the sight; the clouds, instead of being pale grays and whites, seemed to cycle between subtle reds and diffuse blues…no, wait; now it was a pale green, now faint yellow…

The ever-shifting colours ensnared his admiration and curiosity. It seemed to be one colour at first, but as they swirled around the peak, it was as if the light itself broke itself up into pieces and infused the condensed water vapour with soft pastels at random.

"It's…" Naruto struggled to find words that would convey the depths of his awe, unsuccessfully. Kirabi nodded once.

"Beautiful, isn't it? My home is the shit," Kirabi stated proudly, and the blonde Konoha-nin couldn't have disagreed with the tanned _Jinchuuriki_ if he'd wanted to.

"Yeah…wow. Is it always like that?

"No; the sun's gotta catch the clouds right, but when it does…" Kirabi whistled appreciatively. "Man…whatta sight."

* * *

Naruto was a little surprised. Kirabi had given a casual salute to the guards at the gate, and though they gave the blonde ninja a glance, it was hardly more than cursory. They obviously didn't feel the slightest bit wary about a ninja from Konoha within their walls. Naruto suspected that it might have to do with the fact that Kirabi was escorting him.

As they made their way towards the Raikage's offices in the centre of the village, Naruto was struck by how similar Kumo was to Konoha. He'd always taken pride in the knowledge that he'd been raised in the strongest of the Hidden Villages, and through no fault of teaching or training had acquired the unconscious belief that Konoha was the only 'friendly' Hidden Village.

But he saw the same children playing, the same casual interactions between civilian and _shinobi_, the same merchants hawking the same wares along the same streets, and felt the same sense of homely comfort that Konoha had.

He even got some of the same glares from said civilians, though he knew that here it was due to his open affiliation with the Leaf, as opposed to his status as a demon container. In a way, it was something of a shock to have his beliefs shattered, regardless of whether he had been aware of them or not. He looked around, wide-eyed with curiosity, and continued doing so until Kirabi shoved open a heavy set of doors and pulled him inside. The original two occupants of the room, interrupted by the intrusion, turned to face them.

The Raikage was an older man of about forty or fifty who shared a startling number of physical characteristics with Naruto's escort. He was dark-skinned, heavyset though hardly fat, and had white facial hair neatly trimmed into a smart moustache and a small though thick goatee. Most of his body was hidden underneath the utilitarian robes of office that draped his imposing figure. Naruto was strangely reminded of the Sandaime Hokage.

The other occupant…Naruto stared, completely at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

She was tall, very nearly matching him centimeter-for-centimeter in height, and her pale golden hair was drawn back in a practical braid. The slender woman, clad in muted colours of black and pale purple, was older than he was, but he estimated that the difference between their ages could be counted on one hand. Black eyes stared proudly out from unusually slanted eyes, and her slender physique burst out in all the right places into impressively feminine curves.

_Holy shit!_ Naruto thought, knocked arse-over-teakettle. _Holy shit, holy shit, ho-ly shee-it! _

_Waitaminute! _His mind pointed out stubbornly. _What about Sakura-chan?_ _Don't we like Sakura-chan?_

_Sakura? _ Naruto mentally retorted. _Who the _fuck_ is Sakura_?

"Oi, Kirabi!" He managed in a hoarse whisper, nudging the much taller man in the ribs. "Who's the babe?"

Unfortunately for the male blonde, Yugito had an excellent pair of ears that worked just fine. A single muscle in her neck twitched as she leveled a flat glare at the Konoha-nin.

"'The babe'," she said, frost coating each word she spoke, "has a name. And my name happens to be Nii Yugito, _Jinchuuriki_ of the _Nibi no Nekomata_." Her 'situation' wasn't exactly a secret, after all, and it certainly worked wonders to cow the occasional annoying upstart. Her already narrow eyes become slits. "So I'd advise that you be a little more circumspect in your comments, boy."

Naruto's eyes widened, even as his face fell with disappointment. "Aw, come _on!_" He cried. "How fucking fair is it that the hottest fucking woman I've ever seen has a demon sealed into her, too?! Tell me how un-cool that is!"

Kirabi shrugged. "It's un-cool as hell, Tinkerbell. Ain't many as pretty as Kitty-cat, brat, and that's a fact."

Yugito blinked, uncertain as to whether or not she had been complimented or insulted by the other blonde, but definitely surprised that he hadn't seemed the least bit frightened about her condition. She ignored her fellow Kumo-nin's statement; he was incomprehensible to her at best. She was possessed of a keen mind, though, and mulled over Naruto's comments at top speed, only to come up indecisive, so she took it the way she was most familiar with: Insult.

"Something wrong, Leafling," she growled, "with a _woman_ holding a _Bijuu_? Maybe you think only a _man_ could hold one back?"

She'd encountered like-minded individuals, and though they were uncommon at best within Kumo's walls, their comments still chafed her. No way in _hell_ was she going to deal with that kind of rubbish from some brat from Konoha.

She expected a lot of things, really; she expected him to try to ignore her and pretend that he'd said nothing, in which case she'd kick his ass. She expected him to cower and back off, in which case she would also kick his ass. She expected him to bluster like a jerk about men being stronger than women, whereupon she'd crush his balls…and then kick his ass.

Naruto, though, wasn't the "Number One Most Surprising Ninja" for his curious skill in baking chocolate cookies (the recipe to which Tsunade had made him destroy so that only he could make them, and only for her), and so out of the myriad of replies Yugito had _expected_ him to make, he chose one that she hadn't even considered.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Naruto asked, cocking his head to the side as he squinted at the female _Jinchuuriki_ in painfully obvious confusion. "What does being a guy have to do with anything? Hell, Tsunade-baa-chan's the strongest person I know, and she can kick my ass with just a finger." Naruto shrugged. "It's just that Akatsuki is gonna be after you next, and it pisses me off that they're gonna try to kill a first-class smokin' hottie like you. I tell you," he said, turning back to Kirabi, completely missing the astonished (and embarrassedly pleased) look on the _kunoichi'_s face, "those Akatsuki guys are fuckin' stupid if they're willing to kill off someone like _her_ for a stupid demon." Yugito's embarrassment worsened when the Raikage's brother simply nodded solemnly in agreement.

Yugito and Kirabi, in contrast with almost every other _Jinchuuriki_ in existence, had truly been seen as heroes of their village, and while there were those within Kumo's general populace who were wary of the two, they weren't regarded as anything other than extraordinarily powerful ninja who shouldered an additional burden for the sake of the village. Consequently, they were highly respected and even liked. They were treated well, and the few who were afraid of them didn't act on their fear.

But Yugito had been trained as the epitome of all that was ninja, and while she was a credit to her calling and her country, she had never been trained to deal with the softer aspects of her sex…namely, the raw male appreciation Naruto was showing, unabashed and with all the subtlety and grace of a sledge-hammer. This, coupled with the fact that no-one had ever regarded her in such a manner regardless of whether they were aware of the _Nibi_'s presence or not, was like a physical blow, one that none of her training had conditioned her to resist. Involuntarily, she felt her cheeks burn.

The Raikage coughed once, and all eyes turned to him. "If you two are quite finished flirting," he said, playing with his neatly-tended goatee as his dark eyes sparkled in amusement, ignoring his _kunoichi_'s embarrassed sputtering, "I would like to get to business. You," he said suddenly, flicking out a finger towards Naruto, "what is your name and your purpose in being here?"

"Me? I'm Uzumaki Naruto," said boy stated with a broad grin, "and I'm gonna be the next Hokage, believe it!" Yugito rolled her eyes as Kirabi pinched his nose in exasperated disbelief at Naruto saying something so inflammatory to the leader of an unfriendly nation. "I'm here to ask you for help."

One Kage-level eyebrow rose on dark skin, and the Raikage cocked his head. "Help? Young man, are you not aware that Konoha and Kumo are not on the best of terms at the moment?" He regarded the blonde boy standing across from him for a moment, surprised that he couldn't detect the slightest hint of unease. "I could have you executed as a spy; you're in our village, wearing a Konoha headband, and there would be nothing your village could do about it."

If the leader of Kumogakure was expecting the young man to lose his composure at the threat, he was gravely disappointed. Naruto nonchalantly interlaced his fingers behind his head and gave a half-shrug. "Well, yeah, I know that. I'm not stupid. But there's some really nasty shit going down that concerns all the Elemental Countries." He shook his head. "Trust me; we don't have the luxury of getting into little pissing contests right now."

The Raikage leaned back in his chair, forming a steeple with his fingers as he regarded the last remaining legacy of Namikaze Minato. "If you're talking about the Akatsuki organization," he smiled thinly, "I assure you that we have no reason to fear. Both Kirabi and Yugito are capable _shinobi_, and should be able to handle a ragtag group of _nukenin_ with little difficulty. Kumo appreciates the concern of Konoha, but-"

"Listen to me, you old fart," Naruto said irritably, taking two quick steps forward to lay his palms flat on the broad desk of the village leader. Yugito made as if to pull him away, but to her surprise, Kirabi's hands found themselves on her shoulders and brought her back to his chest. "Not so fast, kitty-cat," he murmured in her ear. "Killer Bee says 'wait and see'."

Naruto leaned in until he was nearly nose-to-nose with the Raikage. "Akatsuki isn't some group of stupid bandits or runaway _chuunin_, old man," he growled. "They're all nasty fuckers, S-class or higher. Uchiha Itachi and Hoshigaki Kisame are members. Orochimaru of the Sannin was a member. Deidara of Rock is a member, Sasori no Akasuna was a member, and you can bet your ass that everyone else in that organization is as strong as they are or _worse_.

"Gaara, the Kazekage," he continued, his voice rising in pitch as he worked himself up, "The _Jinchuuriki _for the _Ichibi_, was taken down and had his beast extracted, and the only reason he's still alive is because the second-greatest medic-nin in the world, Chiyo-baa-sama, brought him back to life using a forbidden technique that _killed_ her." His right index finger stabbed out, and involuntarily, the Raikage's eyes crossed in order to focus on the digit that was hovering just above his nose. "These aren't amateurs, you old bastard, and they're hardly ragtag! These fuckers are nasty, super-strong, and they come in pairs."

Nonplused, the tanned village leader brushed the offending finger away. "I don't know how you Konoha-nin work," he stated dryly, "but here in Kumo, we teach our _shinobi_ how to fight off multiple enemies."

Naruto's hands clenched. "Tell me something; could _you_ fight off Itachi and Kisame by yourself?"

"I wouldn't have to; I have ANBU who would assist me in battle, each of whom would gladly lay down their lives for me." The Raikage actually jumped when Naruto bellowed in his face.

"_You stupid old shit_!" The boy roared. Yugito struggled to escape from Kirabi's iron grip to teach the blonde punk a lesson, but the treacherous fingers of the giant white-haired man dug into her collarbone, pinching a nerve that made her gasp with pain. "Those are your people you're talking about," Naruto continued, his face reddening with anger. "They aren't toys, they aren't pawns…they're soldiers who are trusting you to do the right thing for the good of the village! I'm just a dumb kid," the blonde snarled, "but even I know that you need to protect them as much as they need to protect your village! Are you honestly saying that you're going to abandon your own people, your own _brother, _even, and just let them _die_?!"

"Enough!" The Raikage commanded, slapping his palms on his desk and rising quickly to his feet. Naruto hopped back, startled. In a surprisingly athletic manoeuver for a man of his age, the Raikage hopped over the desk himself, rapidly narrowing the distance between himself and the blonde boy. In a parody of the exact same manner that the boy had confronted him, the thickly built man invaded Naruto's personal space.

"Of course I care!" The Raikage snarled. "Yugito is one of my best _Jounin_, and Kirabi is my _brother_! I have complete faith in both of them! Who are you to _dare_ question my feelings or my responsibility towards my own soldiers, let alone my family!?"

"I'm the _Jinchuuriki_ of the _Kyuubi no Kitsune_, and I'm going to be the Hokage!" Naruto bellowed, not giving an inch. "I'd die to protect my village, even though almost everyone hates me; your _shinobi _would die to protect you, but don't you have the same responsibility towards them?!"

"_I'd do everything possible to protect my village!_" The Raikage roared back. "If I have to die or destroy the rest of the world to keep my people safe, then I'd do it in an instant!" There was a tense silence for several minutes as the two glared at each other, breathing heavily. Yugito's face had turned white at the sheer amount of killing intent saturating the room; it seemed to her that her country's namesake element was just a hairsbreadth away from arcing between the two men…and then Naruto grinned and relaxed.

"Okay, ya old bastard," the blond chuckled. "I guess I can respect you. But you better live up to your promises!" He warned. "'Cause those who break the rules are trash, but those who abandon their comrades _or their people_ are lower than trash!"

The older man blinked, and ever-so-slowly, a smile crept over his features, crinkling the sharply-trimmed moustache above his upper lip.

"Young man," he said warmly, "I think I can respect you, too. It takes an enormous amount of either stupidity or passion to talk to a Kage that way. Although I'm not sure of the one," he chided, taking pleasure in the blonde's modestly offended squawk, "you certainly have plenty of the other." One white eyebrow arched in amused approval. "I think Konoha will be very well off with you as a Hokage; if I'm still in office when you finally attain your goal, I'd be honoured to be considered a friend of the Leaf."

Naruto nodded once, his own foxy grin suffusing his features. "Believe it!" Feeling the last of the tension evaporate, Yugito sagged into Kirabi's arms, staring in boneless disbelief at the young man who'd just insulted her village leader and won his admiration in doing so.

"He's quite the guy, and I don't lie," Killer Bee murmured. "Just a kid, and I don't know if I'd have the balls to do what he did." Yugito nodded as she watched Naruto take a seat across from her Kage, cracking a joke that caused a burst of honest laughter from the older man.

"Quite the guy, indeed," she muttered sotto voice._ What kind of person is this Uzumaki Naruto_, she wondered in awe, _who can act in such a manner and in doing so put an end to a bitterness that's lasted for two decades?_

Suddenly, the prospect of this boy becoming Hokage didn't seem quite as ridiculous as it had earlier, and she felt the corners of her mouth twitch upward involuntarily. Things were going to get very interesting, she decided, and she had the feeling that it would be because of this young man from Konoha.

Interesting suited Nii Yugito just fine.

**I **_**really**_** like this chapter. Although the Raikage's character is unknown, I decided that his looks best suited a rougher, coarser version of Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage. I envision him as a hard man, but one who honestly cares for his people; that canon Yugito leaves Kumo in order to protect it speaks well of his character, as I doubt anyone but Naruto would have the strength of character to be so protective of their village if they weren't treated well. **

**Canon-wise, it's been almost thirteen years (post-three-year-timeskip) since Kumo's failed abduction attempt of Hinata, and assuming that Minato Namikaze was abnormally young when he rose to the Kage rank, assuming the average age for such an ascension to be in the early-to-mid-thirties, and taking into account the Raikage's appearance of middle-age, **_**and**_** also deriving premature aging (due to the stress of the position) from the mid-sixties Third Hokage's appearance…well, I think it's entirely possible that the current Raikage was **_**not**_** the Raikage who ordered the Hyuuga kidnapping. **


	26. Chapter 13: Unknown

**Chapter XIII**

_**Author's Note: **__I have corrected three errors, two of them serious. The third was thanks to an anonymous reviewer named G, of all things, who alerted me to a missing word in chapter 2. The major one was in the first chapter. I had originally intended for this to be a one-shot, but it's grown on me quite a bit, so I've changed things a little from my first envisioning. _

_Ironically, this follows directly after my claims of genius. I had better watch myself; God seems to have a clearly developed sense of irony, and worse still, he seems to enjoy making me painfully aware of it._

_Oh, well. As I catch errors, I correct them on my masters, but the two big ones were whoppers. I'm just glad that no-one really caught them before I did._

_On a personal note, I'm immensely pleased with the sudden upswing in attention my story has been getting. Thank you._

_This is the first half of Itachi's two-part battle with the _oi-nin.

* * *

_A single _oi-nin_?_ I thought, actually amused. _Either Konoha has become weak and stupid as of late, or this is some hot-shot out to prove his worth. Another amateur handing his skull to me in offering._

Waving Tayuya off, I wrinkled my nose and arched an eyebrow at the masked Hunter-nin. It certainly _looked _a casual gesture, but was in fact carefully calculated to offer the maximum amount of flat arrogance and mocking amusement. The redheaded woman scurried away remarkably fast, for once without a single coarse comment.

"Lie down on the ground, arms at your side, and I will make your death painless," the hunter ordered flatly.

I shifted my feet, getting a feel for the gravel-paved road beneath the soles of my boots. My mind snapped into that state of almost painful clarity that superior ninja like myself slipped into, a Zen-like pseudo-trance where one's being was totally focused on victory.

It felt good.

_Male,_ I determined at the speed of thought. _Young, early-to-mid thirties at the oldest. _My peripheral eyesight took in the fact that he lacked the typical _oi-nin_ blade slung across his back.

_Close combat weakness?_ I wondered, _or hand-to-hand specialist?_ _Probably hand-to-hand specialty,_ I decided. _Ninjutsu technician wouldn't have confronted me so openly_. _Not confident in his ability to take me down from a distance_.

I let my face slacken into the impassive mask I'd been infamous for. "Just the one?" I asked in a dull monotone, not acknowledging his directive. I was, after all, an unsung master of Piss-Off-Fu, and it seemed such a waste not to use it sometimes. "No comrades to send your body back to Konoha?" I clucked my tongue. "Such a shame; you'll have to pollute the earth here."

I was privately irritated that the nin didn't seem to rise to the bait, but then again, the Hunters are trained to be impervious to the words of their targets, whether cajoling or threatening.

"On the ground," the man barked. "NOW."

"Somehow," I drawled, leveling a casually insulting look at the man, "I really don't foresee that-" I cut myself off as I leapt into the air, just barely avoiding the inelegant axe kick that split the ground in a manner that I found disturbingly familiar. I mentally gawked at the immense fissure that opened up in the exact same way that Senjuu Tsunade had done in Tanzaku town all those years ago. My house…or I should rather call it 'the house I had lived in' groaned and canted to one side as the fissure went right underneath it.

I supposed that I should have been upset – I still owed money on the damned thing. I briefly wondered if my homeowner's insurance would cover damage by _oi-nin_? Slightly shaken, I set down lightly some distance away, but outwardly kept my cool demeanor.

"See, now that's simply impoli-"

I was immediately forced to slide to the right to avoid the crudely executed knife hand thrust that, had it connected, would have sliced through my torso without resistance. As it was, the mere wind pressure alone opened a gash down my left cheek that bled freely as I put distance between myself and the impossibly strong _oi-nin_. Lights began to flick on in the other houses down the street, and I cursed internally.

"Who are you?" I demanded coldly, feeling rather out of sorts. The man was simply_ too fast_. It wasn't a genjutsu, and it wasn't a chakra sapping technique like Yondaime Hokage's _Hiraishin_; it was pure, unbridled speed on a level that I'd never seen before. I stared at the man in the wolf mask in disturbed curiosity. Just who exactly _was _he? I knew every single _Jounin_ of note from Konoha, and most of those from all the other countries as well. I'd memorized their fighting styles, their favoured moves, their special techniques. Disturbed and confused, I regarded this new threat warily.

This man…the only person I knew who even partially fit his description was an Iwa-nin that I'd personally slaughtered when I was ten. But no Iwa-nin would be caught _dead _wearing Konoha regalia, notwithstanding the whole 'already deceased' thing…

Predictably, the _oi-nin_ didn't answer my question. Well, not unless you consider his saturating the air with an ungodly amount of _Kage Kunai_ a legitimate response. Only a masterfully executed _Kawarimi_ allowed me to escape the onslaught, and even then I didn't slip away unscathed. I winced at the sharp, near-invisible cuts on my shoulders and arms stung.

I'm a thinker, primarily; I never act until I can reasonably predict or co-exist with the outcome. The fact that I can comfortably kick the ass of, approximately, the entire population of the world save for maybe ten people notwithstanding, I am a man of caution and Logic…perhaps even paranoia.

But…_nothing was making sense!_ The sheer power behind his attacks was unreal, and his speed on par with mine, but in an almost perverse paradox, his taijutsu was sloppy and his movements (those that I could see, anyway) were predictable and fairly basic. If it weren't for the overwhelming brute force that he was obviously able to bring to bear, I would consider him something of a joke. Skill-wise, I'd put him at mid- to high-_Chuunin_ at best, and _maybe_ a very green _Jounin_ on a good day, but the perplexing power and speed didn't match up with that hypothesis. Something was _very_ wrong.

_Is he playing with me?_ I wondered, frantically trying to stay one step ahead of him mentally.

I'd never been on the other end of that damned expressionless mask before, and it was unsettling, to say the least. The tiny slits that functioned as eyeholes seemed to glare balefully at me, practically dripping with malice, even as the wearer stood stock-still, hands open, palm-upwards, at his side. The eyes seemed to be staring at me…a mistake that would cost him his life. With uncommon anger, my mouth split open in a ferocious snarl, and through clenched teeth I whispered with all the vehemence I could muster a single word.

"_Tsukiyomi!_"

My eyes burned, worse than usual. Day bled immediately into reverse, colours fading inversely before spinning out into diffuse grays, blacks, and reds.

Describing the world of the moonlit night is difficult. It may even be impossible, even though it is my technique, and one to which I can claim to have mastered all related esoterica. The only way I can describe it would be 'dream-like'.

When you dream, it's a common misconception that you 'see' things in your dreams. Quite frankly, this is impossible. The optic nerves aren't involved; although they are connected to the brain, they operate on the principle of reflected light from the objects around us to see. Theoretically, if one could manufacture a substance that neither reflected nor absorbed all light striking it, invisibility would be the apparent result. But as the eyes (except in rare cases) are always closed during sleep, there is little to no light entering the pupils, so the term 'sight' in this context is actually a misnomer.

What really happens is that the mind 'digests' information that has been stored at random, and not necessarily whole pieces of said information, and in doing so literally views whatever is stored there again. Because our strongest sense, sight, isn't actually involved, a hazy conceptualization of these bits and pieces gets mashed together at random, and our brain tries to rationalize this, often in very bizarre ways.

I once had a dream where I was chasing my father, who was wearing my mother's necklace and little else, through a garden made of miniature carnivorous squid with toenails for teeth and teacups for eyes.

It was very odd.

But my point is that _Tsukiyomi_ is rather like that – there aren't _really_ colours, and there aren't _really_ objects. It's my world, and even I can't really make things appear solid. What I 'create' is more of a…_suggestion_. Granted, it was an impossibly strong suggestion, but a suggestion nonetheless. The power of _Tsukiyomi_ is not the ability to control a world as a God, but really closer to having conscious control of a dream.

The useful bit about it is that it's a _shared dream_, and my victims are quite literally asleep from the first moment they are pulled in; their defenses are down, their minds instantly relaxed, and their reflexes dulled. What makes it a viable technique, however, is the human mind itself. There is an old saying that goes 'what the mind believes, the body perceives'. In layman's terms, if the mind truly believes that a block of ice held against the skin is really a piece of white-hot iron, not only will the brain generate intense pain, but _the skin that was touched will actually blister and burn!_

The power of _Tsukiyomi _is the power of suggestion, magnified, tightened, and directed to an incredibly fine degree. If the mind believes that the body is being pierced by swords, the victim will feel as if it were really happening. But the true, absolute secret of the technique is its function within perceived time.

Time itself is my willing bitch within the moonlit world, and thus cramming three perceived days of experiences into a single second of real-time not only works wonders as a torture device, but it also causes so much pain in so little time that the body can't keep up and everything becomes a white-hot flash of mortal agony. The body 'folds', as it were – it gives up on trying to understand how it can be damaged here, here, there, there, here, there, and there too (_ad infinitum_) at the same time by the same person with the same weapon that it seizes and…'restarts'.

The practical upshot? One instant Grand Mal seizure followed swiftly by unconsciousness and occasionally even death.

The nin appeared, bound to a large slab of rock by heavy chains. "This is the world of _Tsukiyomi_," I explained, secretly delighted but forcing myself not to show it. "I control everything within this realm. Life and death are mine. Time is mine. _You_ are mine. You will be bound here for seventy-two hours, during which time…" There was a painful throb just behind my eyes, and I paused and rubbed my forehead. The pain didn't go away. "Mmh," I grunted, and decided to ignore it the best I could.

"During these seventy-two hours," I continued, internally wincing as the pain suddenly sharpened, jabbing needles into the back of my eyes, "you will be eviscerated repeatedly, and you will watch yourself die over and over again."

The nin didn't struggle, which was a little disappointing; he just hung there, staring at me from behind his impenetrable mask. I frowned, but with a mental prodding, one hundred duplicates of me appeared, each clad in my old ANBU armour and ferret mask.

"Shall we-" _stabbing pain _"-begin?" I asked rhetorically, and I mentally ordered my clones to proceed.

My response wasn't anything I expected. The instant the first clone took its initial step towards the _oi-nin_, it seized up, arched its back as if in pain, and disappeared, a keening wail exacerbating my already-fierce headache.

"What?" I whispered, confused. A second clone met with an identical fate. Then a third, but this one didn't even move.

Then two died at once. Then a group. I quickly began to will more into existence, but no sooner had I created them than they 'died'. I cocked my head to the side and approached the _oi-nin_.

"What are you doing?" I asked calmly. "You can't resist this. It's impossible; completely outside of human limits." Frowning, I waited for an answer. Receiving none, I grasped the bottom of the Konoha-nin's mask.

"Who are you," I queried, "who can resist this technique? I must know, one way or another." I hesitated, wondering if he would answer now. "Very well, then. I-"

My hand jerked back as the mask seemed to glow white-hot, and I immediately put several metres between myself and the hunter. My fingertips reddened and blistered, and I arched an eyebrow in distressed curiosity. Glancing up again, I observed a strange phenomena.

The hunter's mask shuddered, and a split appeared in it.

_Crack_.

I watched, mystified, as the spit widened and reached the edges of said mask…and continued beyond it into thin air!

"What are you doing?!" I demanded sharply. The cracks widened and branched out, and there was a sensation of groaning and heaving in my stomach. The nin didn't move, but I was suddenly struck by the feeling that he was staring straight into my eyes.

"What…doing?" The nin said, his voice wavering and cracking. I took instant note of the poorly-worded answer, taken alongside his earlier fluency, although I couldn't have guessed what it meant. "Is-breaking-you!" With a tremendous flaring of _chakra_, everything shattered into silver shards that whipped past me, slicing into my body before a flash of white light painfully dropped me back into the real world.

I dropped to my feet, coughing up blood that appeared black in the moonlight as my mind tried to come to grips with what had just happened.

_He'd broken_ Tsukiyomi. Wiping my eyes clear of the blood that was the inevitable side-effect of the double-edged technique, I focused blurrily on the _oi-nin_ who'd just done the impossible. He was down on one knee himself, holding his stomach…proof that whatever he'd done was exhausting, if not damaging to himself as well.

I suppose I should have taken heart in the knowledge that he couldn't effortlessly replicate his feat, but I'd exhausted a tremendous amount a _chakra _in a failed bid to end the battle quickly.

_Who _is _he?!_ My mind shrieked. I didn't have any answers. What secret bloodline or skill had given this man the ability to render a mythical _doujutsu_ ineffective?

All-too-rapidly, his breathing evened out, and he rose to his feet, an action that I mimicked.

"Impressive," I admitted. "I didn't think anything but a _Mangekyou_ could resist a _Mangekyou_. But you're _not _Kakashi _no_ _Sharingan_."

"Am not," the man growled. Was it just my imagination, or did what little skin showing seem to be…no, it had to have been the adrenaline playing tricks on my eyes. "You…be dead. Be dead now." My face hardened.

"Not now," I vowed, racing through handsigns, "Not ever. _Doton: Ishi Itadaki no Jutsu!_"

With unbelievable agility, the nin blurred out of the way of the stone spire that shot up beneath his feet. Growling, I stabbed my right hand upwards, causing a forest of identical peaks to blossom. He deftly avoided them all, and I raised wall of packed earth to protect me from the immense fire _jutsu_ that he replied with.

Not an instant later, he came bursting through the baked earth shield, tearing through as though it was made of paper, but I'd already moved. An explosion rocked the city, and I scowled grimly as I saw a shower of splinters pepper the ground where he'd been an instant before my explosive brick went off.

I briefly considered re-activating my _Sharingan_, but a dull throb at the mere thought convinced me otherwise.

Catching a hint of movement, I dodged, dancing around a veritable hailstorm of _shuriken_ that disappeared, sinking into the earth. Wheeling out of the way, I dipped my right hand into a pond that was situated in the front of one of my neighbour's house. Imbuing the liquid with my _chakra_, I spun to my feet and _pulled_.

The water responded to my call, forming a whip of liquid that I slashed out with, trailing a vicious path down the centre of the hunter's left arm, sending a spray of black blood into the night air. I gritted my teeth in annoyance; I _had _been aiming for his heart, but he was just too damned _fast_. Pivoting, I raked the weapon through several street-lamps, sending them toppling with a crash but failing to catch up to the elusive bastard.

I released the technique, drenching the quarter, and did so just in time to coat my other hand in _chakra_ and split a dragon made of flames down the middle. I felt the tremendous heat of the technique as I watched the two halves pass on either side of me.

"You _fool!_" I roared. "Fire is in my blood! You don't really think that you can conquer me with my own element, do you?!"

"Talk big." The voice came from behind me, and I instinctively jabbed a _kunai_ over my shoulder, hearing a metallic ring as I caught the blow that would have sliced through my neck like butter. Unprepared for the force of the blow, I was smashed to the ground, rolling to one side to avoid a second blade.

I planted my hands into the earth and spun around, catching my attempted assassin in a rising axe kick beneath the chin. Not giving him any time to recover, I continued my rotation, using momentum to add power to my attack's twin.

The blow missed his throat, which was my intended target, but I was satisfied to feel his sternum give a little. Satisfaction turned to dismay as he grabbed my ankle and knee and twisted, pushing down.

I was dragged off my hands into a kneeling position with my back facing him, and I barely brought my arms up in time to block the descending bicycle kick that would have smashed my skull open. My bones groaned in agony, but they held fast, and in a quick reversal, I grabbed _his_ leg and yanked, using my shoulders and back to throw him some fair distance in front of me.

I used what little time I got from that manoeuver to swallow two soldier pills – a dangerous move, seeing as I could easily overdose and lose coordination in my limbs if I wasn't careful, but I needed the _chakra_ boost that they would give me. I felt the surge, and my breathing stabilized.

I blinked my eyes to try and clear them; my head must have gotten clipped by one of those blows, and things were slightly fuzzy. I watched as my executioner rolled to his feet and reset his stance. To my disgust, he didn't appear the slightest bit winded.

"Good," he choked out. "Strong."

I stared at the wolf-mask that covered his face, and a faint hint of a memory wisped its way through my mind. _I knew that mask_.

**The second half of the chapter and the last chapter of Arc II comes next…**

_**Author's Admission: **__So I had someone point out a flaw in my story, one that can't be corrected and that I'd hoped everyone would overlook. Iruka is supposed to be a secret 'ubernin', this person asks skeptically, even without the curse seal. Then why did Mizuki pwn his ass?_

_I suppose that I could play the 'I'm the Author, so I'm God' card, but that doesn't wash; it's a weak play under the best of circumstances. I could think up explanations and reasons that would convince half of you at best. That's an imperfect, cheap solution, one that would smack of desperation and a fear of rejection._

_So I come before you to admit that, yes, this premise is irrevocably flawed. But you know what? I'm still continuing along with it, and I'm still going to continue this story._

_I'm not even going to apologise for it, even though it is my duty as an author to weave as tight a tale as possible. I've never claimed to be perfect, just very, very bright. But being human means being fallible, and being a man means owning up to your mistakes._

_I write for my own amusement, primarily, and maybe just a bit of validation from the anonymous Internet-at-large, but I write what I want, how I want, and when I want. If I wanted to change Naruto into a girl in the next chapter and have he and Kirabi going at it hammer-and-tongs, I could. (I'm not going to, because that's just icky.)_

_What I _am_ going to do, is to inform you formally of this errata, and leave it up to you to decide on your own, on an individual basis whether or not to continue reading my story._


	27. Act II Finale: Unforeseen

**Chapter XIV**

There was a tense moment of silence, the only sounds those of confused and tired voices from my neighbours as they wondered what all the noise was. Those who ventured outside, however, clearly knew to leave well enough alone, as they immediately hurried back into the domicile that they'd exited from.

I regarded the _oi-nin_ warily. He stood in the middle of the damaged street, and in the moonlight I could make out a strange white pattern on what little skin was exposed. Activating my _Sharingan_ eyes, I examined the marks more closely.

Against the lightly tanned flesh of his forearm, the marks were only slightly visible; connected white triangles that wove themselves around his musculature seemingly at random. I frowned; the marks were vaguely familiar, but I couldn't remember any Konoha-nin having tattoos of that nature, or even at all.

Tattoos, after all, were an easily identifiable mark, and anonymity is what _shinobi_ were all about.

"I'm very impressed," I stated suddenly, and I watched the hunter's head jerk in surprise. "To break an unbreakable technique…truly, one could consider you nothing less than extraordinary."

"Kill you!" The words came out in a rough screech, barely human.

"Eloquent," I said dryly. "Your speed is impressive, and your strength eclipses mine. How I wish I knew your face! You are a curiosity, an enigma, a question wrapped in a riddle and tied with a conundrum." I smiled thinly. "You caught me off-guard before, and you surprised me with your resistance. For that I commend you."

Animalistic growling was my response, and I observed his muscles tensing. I widened my eyes, letting them slip into the _Mangekyou_ once again.

"But I have taken your measure, and I now know the depths of your capabilities. _And I find you lacking._" I raised my right hand, palm up, and beckoned him. "So come, hunter! Come to me, and I will teach you that which you dare not acknowledge! Come to me, and I will take this great power you bear and grind it to dust." My eyes flashed. "COME!"

He came. But I was telling the truth; my eyes saw his every move, and though I could not hope to weather his blows as he could mine, I saw into his mind…an advantage he did not share. I ran backwards, staying just ahead of the vicious knee-thrust aimed at my chest. The _oi-nin_ growled and thrust his right arm out in a knife hand that, had it connected, would have gone straight through my chest.

Suffice to say, it didn't connect. Reversing my momentum in an instant, I grabbed the arm and, using the bent knee as a stepping stone, flipped over the hunter's head. As he skidded to a halt, I, flying wrongside-up through the air, raced through several seals.

_Rat, Ox, Rat, Snake, Ram, Tiger, Tiger, Dragon, Snake, Bird, Ox, Dragon!_

"_Raiton: Hidoishuurai!_"

A deceptively small lightning bolt arced from me to the ground. An instant later, every single street-lamp exploded as the immense electrical energy overloaded them. Landing, I observed with great displeasure that the hunter had slammed his feet together, keeping them too close to complete a circuit. As I neared the ground, I felt more than saw a tremendous blast of wind coming my way.

Sinking into the earth as if it were water, I avoided the attack, but at the expense of feeling the residual electric energy that I'd saturated the ground with. It was little more than an uncomfortable buzz at this point, but a few seconds difference could have killed me.

An instant later, the ground cracked open with the force of the blow the _oi-nin_ had struck it with, revealing me. But I'd rather expected something like this, and as soon as the rift revealed my opponent, I shoved my hands into rock walls on each side of the canyon I found myself in and leapt. When my arms tore free of the earth, they were each clutching a veritable bandolier of _Iwa kunai_, which I launched with all the forced that I could muster.

The hunter avoided the first volley, but the shrapnel that the _kunai_ created when they shattered on the stones of what remained of the street caused him to stumble when they lanced into his thigh. I was almost back on solid ground when he slammed on palm into the earth himself, and a pillar made of solid stone rammed itself into my chest, driving the breath from my body.

He leapt at me, but I'd prepared for just such an occurrence.

"_Amaterasu!_" I winced as my eyes burned, and my headache sharpened perceptibly from the sudden _chakra_ loss. To my _immense_ displeasure, however, the _oi-nin_ thrust out a hand, and my _Sharingan _eyes observed a thick string of _chakra_ attach itself to building to my right. Using the sudden change in momentum to jerk him out of harm's way, the hunter swung around me, forming strings of _chakra_ that allowed him to instantly change direction as they latched on to the buildings around us.

_Inventive!_ I thought admiringly, even as I leapt off the stone column and plummeted towards the ground head-first. In mid-air, I threw out my own _chakra_ 'tether', only instead of affixing it to a building, I had it latch on to the _chakra_ string that the hunter was using. Yanking hard, I 'cracked the whip', and conservation of momentum aided me in flinging the hunter, who had been barreling towards me, from his tether into the air, uncontrolled.

I'll give him credit; as I passed close to him, he managed to thrust out an open palm to block the _kunai_ that I'd intended to lodge in his jugular. As it was, the point entered his hand and sank in all the way through to the ring, which he closed his fist on and back-handed me, using the point of my own weapon to score a telling blow that almost took my right eye.

I hit the ground and rolled quickly to my feet. Wiping the blood from the wound that ran from my right eyebrow to my ear, I shook it off of my fingers. I was furious; this hunter was strong, no doubt about it, but _no-one_ had ever come so close taking one of my eyes.

The _oi-nin_ was crouched, clutching at his right shoulder, and I could sense his _chakra_ sputtering irregularly. That's it. That's _it!_

"Congratulations, hunter," I growled. "You've fought well, and I've had an amusing time of it, but the time for games is _over_." The hunter rose to his feet. My eyes twisted, spun, and burned red as I unleashed my ultimate technique.

"_Susa-_"

That was all I managed before my left arm was shredded into crimson confetti when the _oi-nin_ simply blurred past me at impossible speed. I roared reflexively in pain, grasping the wounded limb with my right hand, trying to stop the bleeding. My right hand rapidly grew warm and slick with blood, even as my left cooled.

_What? What?!_

Stumbling back in shock, I was in no condition to parry or even see the next blow, which sent me flying through the air, spinning as I went. I cried out as I slammed into a wall and bounced off, leaving a crimson smear as I fell. Before I even managed to hit the ground, a vicious kick snapped several ribs and launched me back into the night sky, where another unseen blow sent me crashing back to earth with a force that shattered my collarbone.

Coughing, I pushed myself to my knees with my good arm, my ribs shrieking in agony with each painful inhale. I had barely risen when I was kicked in the sternum, sending me onto my back, where a tremendously heavy boot pinned me. Cracking my eyes open, I could make out the blurred form of the _oi-nin_ through the blood that was leaking into my eyes.

His voice was hoarse and cracked, but he spoke with his original ease when he said to me:

"You should have accepted a painless death, Uchiha Itachi." Coating his hand with raw _chakra _that boiled and seethed malevolently, the wolf mask stared down at me, and for some reason, I was struck by the odd impression of…regret? "For what it's worth, though, I'm sorry I had to do this."

"But I'm not!"

As if struck, the _oi-nin_ jerked and fell backwards, bellowing as his limbs flailed. Flanked by four other Wave citizens, Tayuya appeared, her hand held in a single seal that I didn't recognize. Her face was hardened with concentration, and she watched the hunter roll around on the ground, shrieking in agony as he clutched at the junction of his neck and collarbone.

"Nendo, see to Imura," she snapped. "Funosuke, Youta, Juu, restrain the _oi-nin_." As a craggy-faced owner of a high-quality fruit-stand knelt beside me and used a glowing fingertip to start cauterizing the deep wounds on my left arm, the other three held the still-thrashing body of my attempted executioner down, binding him with monofilament razor wire. It was simple enough to break (even an untrained child could manage it), but the thin piece of flexible steel would slice through flesh with the ease of a hot knife through butter before enough force to snap it could be brought to bear.

"Should we kill him?" One of the former nins asked, kneeling on the writhing hunter's back while wrapping the wire around his wrists, binding them together.

"And give Konoha a reason to send a whole squad next time?" Another snorted. "I don't think so, Juu."

"What do you think is going to happen when we ship him back? That the Leaf will just let us be?"

"They will if they know what's good for them," Tayuya said grimly as she checked my eyes. "This is our territory, and having one of their hunters operating on our lands without so much as a notice is enough to censure them before the Fire Daimyo."

"Why is that so important?" Juu asked, dragging the now-shuddering form of the hunter-nin to his knees. Nendo shoved a blood pill down my throat, which I reflexively swallowed. My eyesight cleared a little, but it was still blurry.

"Because he got caught," Tayuya retorted. "It shows poor skill, which reflects on the village as a whole, and more than anyone else, Konoha is concerned with their image." She jerked her head towards the three nin who were guarding the downed _oi-nin._ "Is he secure?"

"He's secure."

"Thought you were supposed to be some super-bad-ass _shinobi_," she said mockingly, the cutting comment directed at me. "So much for that." She smiled, a tight, thin-lipped expression that conveyed vindictiveness rather than actual pleasure.

"Bitch," I said through bloody lips.

"Aww, how sweet. I never knew you cared," she smirked, but then her face became serious. "You're gonna be…well, you'll live, at least. We need to move you, so I'm going to knock you out, okay?"

Without waiting for a response, she laid two fingers on my carotid artery and in a swift motion pressed down, running her digits upwards towards my chin.

The sudden rush of blood to my brain caused me to black –

* * *

Cobalt eyes with concentric rings glittered, reflecting the light from a single candle.

"Found you," the man whispered in triumph, a self-satisfied smile stretching thin lips.

"Good! Now we can move again."

"Are you so certain?"

"He still has it. As long as we know where he is at all times, we can proceed. Restore normal operations with our puppet village. Send the tracker to keep an eye on our little runaway."

"Very well."

"Oh, and Pein?" Stony blue eyes met those of the other's. "Be more…circumspect, shall we say, in venting your displeasure. Your outburst with Kisame was most irregular."

"It was an accident. I was shocked, and they took advantage of it. I was blindsided."

"Ah, I see…are you still having difficulties with them?"

"They do not like me; they fight me at every opportunity. Usually, though, I can bend them to my will, but it was a moment of weakness."

"Hm. In the future, do your best to avoid such moments."

"Aa."

**And thus ends the "Subliminal" Arc! Keep watching for the "Enochian" Arc, coming soon.**

**I have disabled Anonymous reviews, as I want to reply sometimes to reviewers in private, as well as keeping replies from artificially bloating my word count.**

**I feel that I could have done a little better with this chapter, but not by much. Writing purely action chapters is **_**tough**_**.**


	28. Act III Overture: Initial Proclamation

**Chapter I**

"Oi, Nii-san!" Naruto called out, lifting his right hand in greeting, hopping down from the Kumo ANBU headquarters to land with a crunch on the gravel that peppered the streets of the mountain village. Three days had passed since Naruto had first entered Kumo, and in that time, Naruto had run around the village like a tourist, gawking at the sights and buying souvenirs for his friends back in Konoha.

Yugito blinked and uncrossed her arms from behind her head. Sitting up from where she'd been laying in one of the few patches of grass in the city, she turned her head towards him, one delicate blonde eyebrow arched.

"You may wish to rephrase that, Uzumaki," she said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, "as I might be inclined to take offense at you thinking of me as an older brother." Naruto blinked, taking a second before he recognized the pun for what it was and laughed.

"Hah, good one!" He crouched down, bringing his eye level down to hers. "So then, what should I call you?"

"How about trying, oh, I don't know…'Yugito'?" The blonde woman grinned. Chuckling in embarrassment, Naruto scratched his cheek with an index finger.

"Eh, heh heh. Well, I guess that makes sense."

"It ought to. It's my name." Yugito turned around, looking behind Naruto, her brow furrowing in confusion. The younger blonde followed her gaze to look at…

"Did, uh, did that tree do something to offend you?"

Yugito snorted in amusement, bracing her weight with her arms as she turned back to the view of the mountains at sunset. "No, just surprised that Raikage-sama isn't having ANBU follow you everywhere."

Naruto looked at the other blonde in surprise before craning his head around to look behind him again. "Huh. Didn't even think about it, but now that you mention it, it does seem a little odd. Guess he likes me."

Yugito looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. "It isn't a matter of 'like', Uzumaki," she stated. "For some reason that is beyond me, he actually trusts you."

Naruto pouted, thrusting out his lower lip in mock-depression, and Yugito nearly laughed at the childish expression.

"Aww, does that mean you don't trust me, Yugito-chan?"

Narrowing her eyes at the inappropriately affectionate suffix, she considered her response for a moment before ultimately deciding not to gut him for the curiously intimate manner of speaking. If there was one thing that she knew about the boy (aside from his almost suicidal tendency to stick his nose in where dragons would fear to tread and follow it forthwith with his abnormally large mouth, something that by all rights should have killed him _years _ago), it was that, in contrast to most ninja, he was very open and honest about the way he related to people.

That observation had been a little tarnished when she'd observed he and Kirabi trading rhymes at a ninja Karaoke bar; surely nobody would actually _want_ to expose themselves to that sort of verbal butchery unless they were trying to infiltrate…until she'd realized, with twitching eye and abused eardrum, that the Konoha brat was _honestly_ having fun with Kirabi.

It was scary, in a way; the two of them were frighteningly alike. Kirabi, for all his power and experience, was still a very big kid; one who annoyed the hell out of her with his refusal to adhere to accepted speech mannerisms, but a kid nonetheless. His attitude was irritating, but strangely endearing in a way, and the unfeigned affability he displayed to everyone was comforting at times.

But then, he had something on Naruto…he was a fellow Kumo _shinobi. _Realizing that she hadn't answered, she shook herself free of her mental meanderings. "Trust? You're a Konoha-nin," she said dryly. "Of course I don't trust you."

Naruto's lip started quivering, and those azure eyes turned on her, a little moister than they had been before. She was suddenly aware that his hands had started flicking through seals. Alarmed, her hand shot towards her weapon pouch, but before she could reach it, his hands stopped on the Half-Ram seal and he shouted:

"_Kinjutsu: Koinugan no Jutsu_!"

Yugito stared at him blankly for a few seconds before driving her knuckles into the top of his head.

"Idiot," she snorted, ignoring the complaints from the other blonde, who was currently probing the area of impact on his skull tenderly. "I might have killed you while you were doing that. Doing _jutsu_, or even just faking one near a foreign nin is a good way to get an extra breathing hole in your neck. And 'Puppy eyes' technique or not," she said, a lightly mocking tone to her voice, "I still don't trust you. Hell, we've been hostile to your nation for the past sixty years, and that only got worse twenty years ago with the failed Hyuuga kidnapping attempt."

Naruto shrugged, flopping gracelessly onto the ground next to the Kumo _Jounin_. "Ah, that was just a bad situation all around," he said, digging his hands into the earth beneath him, enjoying the organic feel. "Besides, that cost you a Raikage and a real peace treaty with the Leaf, and all you got was a couple of bodies in return, one of which was your supposed 'ambassador'." Naruto shook his head. "Not a win in my books, Yugito-chan. You were probably just a kid when that happened, anyway, and all the big players got in trouble for it, so no biggie."

Yugito gave an amused half-smile. "I was sixteen at the time."

"Holy shit!" Naruto's mouth gaped in astonishment. "But that would make you, like…almost thirty!"

"I'm thirty-two, actually." Far from being insulted, the blonde Kumo-nin was actually amused by the unrestrained shock emanating from young man sitting next to her. The bug-eyes, she mentally chuckled, were especially funny. "Flies, Uzumaki, flies," she chastised.

The Leaf-nin's jaw snapped shut with a click, and he stared at her with something close to awe. The silence became uncomfortable, and Yugito was suddenly stricken with the urge to _apologise_ for her age, as absurd as that was.

"Well? Cat got your tongue?" Naruto blinked and chuckled at the poor joke. Yugito smirked.

"Naw, it's just that, well…"

"Spit it out, Uzumaki."

"You're really hot, Yugito-chan," Naruto admitted. "I mean, like, wow! I've seen some real winners, but I really thought that you were only a few years older than me at most! Geez, I had no idea!" Yugito had expected something like this from the young man, seeing as he had been pretty blatant about it during their first encounter, but she was honestly both surprised and mildly impressed that he didn't seem the slightest bit bashful about saying such a thing.

"Good genes, I guess," she said, willing herself not to blush at the open admiration. "But don't you feel the slightest bit awkward in saying such things to a ninja of Cloud?"

"Nope!"

"And you have no idea whether or not I may be in a relationship or even married," she chastised. "There is great danger in flirting with a woman in such a situation; danger that could have great political and personal repercussions for you." Dark eyes leveled a pointed stare at Naruto, who was grinning sheepishly. "At best, you might be considered extremely forward. Doesn't that worry you?"

"Ahh, subtlety is boring!" Naruto crowed, kicking the ground with his feet childishly. "Ninja are ninja, but people are people," the younger blonde stated firmly. "And fact is fact. You _are_ hot, and you know it. Anyone who says differently is gay, lying, or jealous."

For the older woman, it was something of a surreal experience. Here she sat, stretched out on her favourite patch of greenery within the walls of her home, casually conversing with an age-old enemy of her people who'd just come from insulting her Kage before settling down and working out what was essentially a provisional and very tenuous, though no less real, alliance with the leader of her Hidden Village, who'd apparently been so impressed by the boy's attitude that he'd offered a room in his own home during the boy's stay, and here he was _flirting _with her. Openly!

"Hmm," she grinned, wrinkling her nose. "You really have no concept of subtlety, do you?"

Naruto cackled and stretched his arms. "Know what it means, but don't particularly care for it myself. Trust me; after spending seven years on the road with Ero-sennin, subtlety is one of the _last_ things I've been taught."

"You're impossible!" The blonde Kumo-nin couldn't help but laugh as Naruto stuck out his tongue childishly. "Heel, Uzumaki! Down, boy!" The sour expression on his face only made her laugh harder.

"You're a bad, bad person, Yugito-chan," Naruto said accusatorily, to which the older woman shrugged, chuckling.

"Maybe." There was a comfortable silence that fell over them as they lay back and watched the clouds go by.

"You know," Naruto mused after several minutes, "I have a friend back in Konoha named Shikamaru, and he always tried to get me to watch clouds with him. I always thought it was stupid, of course; I mean, what's so interesting about clouds? They just kinda…hang there, is all."

"Mm," Yugito grunted, strangely at-ease simply lying next to the young Konoha-nin. It was a warm, lazy sort of day, and the soft eddies of wind that brushed seductively across her skin did little to sap the languid heat from her body. Intellectually, she knew that anyone observing the two of them would probably assume a relationship of some sort, but the grass was soft and the sun was bright. She wasn't moving for _anything_.

All _Jinchuuriki _had physical characteristics that distinguished them as containers. Naruto had his 'whisker'-like marks on his face. Yugito had narrow, arched eyes, and Gaara had the black _tanuki_-like rings around his own eyes. Kirabi hid his own marks behind his ever-present sun-glasses, and no-one but his brother knew what they looked like.

Not a one of them, though, was aware that they also inherited some personality quirks from their _Bijuu_. Naruto had no idea that the reason that he loved ramen so much was because the warm, salty noodles effectively mimicked the temperature and texture of freshly-killed rabbit entrails, and the fish-loving Kirabi would one day find himself exploring the depths of the seas, his heart lost to the great oceans of the world. Gaara himself was inordinately fond of very fresh vegetables, as well as being entranced by small, shiny objects.

The _Nibi_, however powerful and however deadly a beast, was still a cat…and all cats adore lazing about in the warmth of the sun.

"I asked him once what the big deal was," Jiraiya's apprentice continued, playing with a blade of grass between his fingers. "You know what he told me? He said that he wished he were a cloud. Clouds don't get bothered by what's happening down here; they don't get upset or depressed. They just drift along." Naruto chuckled. "Shikamaru's a lazy bastard, but I kinda understand."

"What's Konoha like?" Yugito asked, stretching. The sinuous, graceful action had the side-effect of accentuating her already impressive breasts, a fact that Naruto took subtle though highly appreciative notice of. "I've never been there."

"Eh," he shrugged. "It's an awful lot like Kumo…though there are a lot more trees." He turned his head to the blonde _kunoichi_. "It's right in the middle of this huge forest, and we've got this enormous mountainside monument with the faces of all the Hokages on it. There's green _everywhere_; we've got orchards and forests and stuff like that all throughout the city!

"There's all sorts of neat places, too. There's Ichiraku's Ramen stand…oh, man! I have _got _to bring you there – the old man makes the best ramen in all the Elemental countries – and there's 'The Poor-Man's Feast'. It's this kilometer-long quarter that's full of nothing but restaurants and open-air markets. We call it that 'cause the shopkeepers all give out little tiny samples, and if you're smart, you can bounce from stall to stall and walk out the other side completely full without having spent a single _ryou._"

"Stop it," Yugito chuckled. "You're making me hungry." She looked over at her fellow blonde and smiled. "Konoha sounds wonderful. But I'll bet you don't have our Immaculate Rainbow Clouds."

"You mean the weird coloured clouds that I saw on my way here?" At Yugito's nod, Naruto shook his head. "Naw, we don't have those, but after the rainstorms, we get huge rainbows. I've seen eight rainbows at once-"

A nearby explosion interrupted him, and the two ninja were instantly on their feet, weapons drawn, facing back-to-back as their eyes shifted back and forth rapidly, searching for the cause of the explosion.

"Sorry!" A Cloud ninja shouted, rubbing his eyes and coughing. "A _jutsu_ got away from me." Yugito grunted in annoyance and relaxed, returning her oddly curved _kunai_ to the weapons pouch on her hip, staring down the offending nin until he left.

"Geez," Naruto complained, spinning his own knife around his finger, "what a mood-killer." He holstered his weapon and straightened before throwing the _kunoichi_ a grin. "Hey, thought you didn't trust me, Yugito-chan."

"I don't," Yugito agreed. "You're a nice enough sort, but decades of ill-will can't be erased so easily."

"Ah-ha," Naruto said gleefully, raising his index finger in a mock-lecturing pose, "but you didn't seem to mind having me watching your back."

Dark eyes narrowed and pierced the young man with a stern gaze. "Don't read too much into it, Uzumaki. It was just sheer chance, and it won't happen again."

"Sure, sure," Naruto said in a placating manner, although the broad grin on his face told a different story. "Never again; got it." His head suddenly jerked to the side, and Yugito reflexively followed his gaze to the Kumo-ANBU that it landed on.

"Uzumaki Naruto, Nii Yugito," the ANBU (a woman, judging from her voice, though her slender frame lacked the feminine definition to be distinguishable from that of an effeminate boy's) said respectfully, "Raikage-sama would like the two of you to report to his office at your earliest convenience."

'Earliest convenience'. It was a polite phrase, but coming from ANBU, it meant 'You're all but ordered to get there as fast as possible'. But as the Raikage couldn't legitimately order around a ninja from another country, all he could do was to suggest. Yugito's eyes landed on the other blonde.

Fortunately, for all his stated contempt for subtlety, Naruto seemed able to recognize it when necessary. "Yeah, alright," he grunted. "I'm comin'. Let's go, Yugito-chan." With that, he bounded off towards the center of the town. The female ANBU turned to face her fellow _kunoichi_, and an amused tone suffused the masked woman's voice. "Yugito-_chan_?"

"Oh, shut up," Yugito snapped. "That's just the way he is. It means nothing. He's Leaf, I'm Cloud. "

The ANBU chuckled. "Getting defensive so quickly? My, my; that's certainly interesting, but not half as interesting as how comfortable you two seemed together." To disguise her embarrassment, the female _Jinchuuriki_ growled "You're imagining things!" and took to the rooftops in pursuit of the Kyuubi's gaoler, who was already a respectable distance away.

_It's nothing_, she thought firmly, forcibly ignoring the heat that rushed to her cheeks. _Nothing at all. He's a child compared to me. I'm simply unused to being so openly admired. _She smiled. _That's it; he's just taking advantage of a weakness. I'll enjoy his appreciation, but I won't be taken in by it. It'll be like social training_. Satisfied with the answer she had reached, she increased her speed dramatically.

* * *

Tsunade's hands fisted around the obnoxious letter that had been amongst her daily pile of paperwork. Her teeth ground together as amber eyes, flashing with barely-constrained rage, examined the words written in a formal though unmistakably feminine hand:

_Humble Greetings to Senjuu Tsunade, Godaime Hokage from Hitsutoguro Reiko, Provisional Head Jurist of Nami no Kuni._

_Would that I could write to you under more pleasant circumstances! Konoha is always thought of amongst my people with fondness for its critical role in the salvation of our country, a shining star flickering brightly amidst the dark times we live in, but it seems that all that glitters be not gold, as it were._

_As you well know, we have no Shinobi force, official or otherwise, operating at the behest of or for the sake of Nami. While we are prosperous, we have very little to fear from other, more militant nations or overly-aggressive businessmen, and were this to change, you can be assured that Konoha would be our first choice for home defense. Our police-force, as capable as it may be, is formed mostly of the retired Shinobi population. It is enough for daily operations and effective law-keeping, but hardly able to handle a full-scale attack._

_This brings me to the point of this letter. As you are well aware, we are a fairly affluent country, albeit one without a proper military force, and we are essentially a 'protectorate' of Hi no Kuni. By your own laws, you are required to notify both the Fire Daimyou _and_ the officiating local powers (this last referring to those of Nami no Kuni, of course) in the event that any of your forces are to cross our borders for missions. We, of course, have received no such word, which is strange, considering that we have just apprehended one of your _oi-nin, _and just before he was to assassinate one of our citizens, one 'Imura Tacchi', a very competent blacksmith whom you might better know as 'Uchiha Itachi'. Curious, ne?_

_This is a rather distressing situation, as you might imagine. On one hand, we acknowledge that you have a responsibility to cull _nukenin, _and it would hardly be our place to say otherwise. On the other hand, you have committed a blatantly aggressive action, and with Nami's past, we are loathe to overlook it, to say nothing regarding the assault upon our citizenry. As we have enjoyed an excellent and prosperous rapport with Konoha for the past several years, I think it not unacceptable to come to some arrangement. I greatly dislike the idea of petitioning the Fire Daimyou for a public censure and blacklisting of Konoha, but as it is your duty to protect your countrymen, it is no different for me._

_As it stands, Uchiha Itachi alias Imura Tacchi has been gravely injured, and is currently undergoing recuperative _chakra_ therapy in hospital. The best former nin of our country are guarding him, and it would be ill-advised for you to repeat your actions. Outside of our impending negotiations regarding this debacle, I am requesting reparations; the battle between the two ninja involved caused considerable damage to the surrounding area. A fair estimate of the damage, averaged between four independent, unbiased estimations, comes to approximately 850,000 ryou. Let's just call it an even million, shall we? Considering that Uchiha's house was heavily damaged (along with two others somewhat less affected), thirty lamp-posts destroyed, and several hundred square metres of an important thoroughfare were damaged to an irreparable extent, I feel that this is not an unreasonable sum._

_As always, I have the greatest respect for Konoha and for you, Lady Hokage, but I feel it is in both of our best interests if you were to refrain from sending unauthorized _shinobi_ into our nation. I must also stress this one particular point:_

_Uchiha Itachi alias Imura Tacchi is a lawful citizen of Nami, and he is therefore entitled to due process if he commits a crime within our borders. As of yet, he has failed to do so, and remains a law-abiding citizen. Had you brought his previous status as a missing-nin to our attention previous to this debacle, we may have been willing to work alongside of Konoha on this matter. But the way things lie now, our co-operation is unlikely. Suffice to say that I will not agree to any extradition requests, nor will I suffer another attempt on my countryman's life. _

_Nami no Kuni takes pride in welcoming with open arms those who would find rejection elsewhere, regardless of origin or history. It is this open-minded approach towards immigration which has allowed us such unbridled prosperity within the span of a mere seven years, and it is with that in mind that I respectfully request that you curtail all activities in Nami for the time being. Also, until this matter is dealt with to both parties' satisfaction and reparations received, I regret to inform you that any attempt to cross our borders will result in a total embargo against Konoha. Also, should Uchiha Itachi alias Imura Tacchi suffer a fatal 'accident' during his convalescence, we will respond by petitioning the Fire Daimyou for secession and integration within another country._

_You may consider such methods overly harsh and disproportionate to the potential offense. Perhaps they are, but Nami is a closely-knit society, and Uchiha Itachi is well-regarded and his talents much desired. My country is well-served by his presence, notwithstanding his inoffensive character and quiet demeanor._

_As for your hunter, he is being returned to you unharmed, save for an eleven-point serpent Seal that will prevent him from using _chakra_ completely until removed, which I imagine any number of your _shinobi_ can accomplish. If this is not the case, each member of his escort is able to remove the seal. Expect his arrival in a week's time._

_Please contact me at your earliest convenience so that we may do away with this ugly little incident as soon as possible, and as always, you have my highest regards._

_Hitsutoguro Reiko, Provisional Head Jurist of Nami no Kuni._

Tsunade scowled at the letter, frustrated by the blatant antagonism as well as irritatedly impressed by the sheer bollocks displayed by its writer. The threats of censure and embargo were extreme, though quite legitimate, and the blonde Hokage found herself examining the wording for any possible literal loopholes. Anything, really, that would let her find some way around this mess…!

Nothing. The bitch was too damn clever by half with her phraseology. There were a multitude of ways to circumvent the letter of the demands, but not in any way that could be considered as anything less than disrespectful and inflammatory.

_Dammit_, she growled mentally. _I was afraid something like this might happen. _Slapping the paper down on her desk, Tsunade leaned forward on her elbows, rubbing her forehead in irritation.

The negatives of the situation were obvious. Not only had Iruka, the so-called 'super-nin', failed his mission, but he'd been apprehended by a country without a standing _shinobi _force. It was a phenomenal embarrassment to the whole of _Hi no Kuni_, and Wave's leader was capitalizing on that particular fact. Moreover, said leader was aware of Itachi's status as a missing-nin, and for some reason had decided to protect him. Ordinarily, such an action would have proved futile in the face of Konoha's military might, but the Hidden Village had benefited tremendously from Nami's prosperity and goodwill. Sacrificing a full eight or nine percent of Konoha's income for the sake of eliminating a so-called _nukenin_ would not be received very well. Inciting public censure from the Daimyou for the same action was unthinkable and tantamount to self-sabotage.

The positives were slim – at least Iruka had survived, and this Hitsutoguro Reiko's demands were hardly unreasonable. Stiff, yes, but unreasonable, no. Tsunade had little doubt that the real blow would come about in the proposed dialogue the woman had suggested, but at this point, there was little she could do about it.

Snapping her fingers once, Tsunade regarded the ANBU that appeared.

"Hokage-sama."

"Summon Homura and Koharu. Tell them that it is urgent."

"Hai, Hokage-sama." The ANBU bowed once and disappeared. Leaning back, Tsunade furrowed her brow in thought.

_How is it,_ she wondered speculatively, _that you've managed to gain the support of Wave so quickly, Itachi? Why did you hide there, of all places? You knew that it was a protectorate of Fire Country. What game are you playing now? _Steepling her fingers, she frowned.

_You cannot just 'quit', Itachi. Not at such a critical time. What are your real reasons?_


	29. Chapter 2: Continuance of Life

**Chapter II**

As obtuse and redundant as it may sound, it is a remarkably inconvenient thing to be so…inconvenienced. I awoke not long before beginning this entry, perhaps less than an hour ago, and am writing this mentally, as there are no writing implements within sight and I currently lack the necessary _chakra_ to unseal my journal.

Eidetic memory is a wonderful thing. I am compelled to write, even moreso than usual as of late. I'm not quite certain as to why, but it is with a sense of slowly-growing urgency that I have chronicled my life from the moments before my abandonment of Akatsuki to the present. What unseen yet not unfelt force is it that drives me to catalogue the minutiae of my days, and why? Insanity? Hope for redemption in the jaded eyes of future generations? Boredom? I cannot say with any certainty, but with every entry comes a manic question:

'Is it enough? Is it sufficient'? Though for what…I cannot say. I feel that I stand upon the brink of a precipace, requiring but a single nudge to topple. For perhaps the first time since becoming a _Jounin_, I feel unpleasantly mortal.

I found myself in a sterile room of the medical persuasion, although to be fair, one room is hardly indicative of the whole building. There are no windows, so this is presumably not an ordinary hospital.

I wish I knew how I got here. I'm not stupid; the facility/prison/who-knows-what that I was currently in was due to the actions of _Nami_. The hunter-nin would have killed me, as would any of his allies, if he had any, so the fact that I was alive and, more to the point, being treated medically indicated that I was momentarily out of danger.

I had no idea what the time was, nor how long I had been out. Though my training as an ANBU included measuring time without the use of either a clock or the sun, mental calculations rely on the state of the mind, and it is with great discomfort that I realize that mine is in fragile condition.

I admit that it's a rather disquieting sensation to be lucid enough to recognize when one isn't firing on all cylinders. It seems that my mind has been damaged (to say nothing of my body at the moment), but as the corporeal injuries are more easily quantifiable, let's begin with those.

My left arm was immobilized and thickly wrapped in a distressingly thorough manner. Throughout the whole of the limb was a fierce throbbing as well as a sharp pins-and-needles sensation. From what little I know of the medical field, this indicated wounds deep enough to require nerve reattachment – a delicate and time-intensive prospect. I doubt that I'd been out longer than a month, and for some reason, I felt that my period of forced unconsciousness is somewhat less than that. Call it intuition, a hunch…whatever.

Then again, such confidence could just be the psychological excretions of my aforementioned damaged mind. For all I knew, I could have been in a coma for six thousand years and had been anally violated by enormous fuchsia squirrels once daily (thrice on Saint's Days). Admittedly, that particular scenario was rather low on the list of likely outcomes, but still!

Anyway!

My ribs were bandaged lightly, and there was a sense of soreness around them, but none of the raking, rasping, grating pain that come from breaks – I'd been under long enough to receive sufficient treatment to heal them, but the soft tissue was still in somewhat less than pristine condition. Even the singularly most incompetent dolt knows that flesh heals far swifter than bone, so unless someone had been healing my ribs slowly while simultaneously abusing the flesh above them, that particular fact was clear evidence of _chakra_ therapy, and a rather decisive nail in the coffin of the 'six thousand years of anal-raping squirrels' theory.

Experimentally, I tried to shrug, and gagged as a wave of pain and nausea swept over me. My collarbone was obviously still broken. Sinking somewhat deeper into the pillows on the bed, I flicked my eyes to the other side of my body, observing with mild interest and morbid amusement the sheer number of IVs currently entrenched within the meat of my right forearm. Recalling a particular injury, I raised my working hand to my face and-

_Tok-tok-tok_. Someone knocked at the door to the room. Another point in my favour; wardens and captors tend not to do such things. I lowered my hand and spoke:

"Come in." The door, a heavy western-style slab of dark wood, swung open and then closed, admitting between those two states a very tall woman whom one might consider 'handsome' as opposed to 'beautiful'. She was somewhere in her early to mid forties with a stately, almost regal countenance framed by a utilitarian bob of hair that had once been blonde but was now predominantly gray. She was slender and carried her age well in body, and clothed in subtly accented silks that ran towards the minimalist side of 'phenomenally expensive'. Sharp eyes were framed by round spectacles, and a thin-lipped smile met my gaze as she sat down in the room's only chair. She crossed her legs gracefully.

"Hello, Uchiha Itachi," she said perfunctorily in a voice that was startlingly deep and rich for a woman, "or would you prefer your allonym of 'Imura Tacchi'?" If she had expected an answer to be forthcoming, she was soon to be disappointed, as I held my tongue. She held my gaze for a few seconds before continuing, clearly having expected my response (or lack thereof).

"My name is Hitsutoguro Reiko, and I am the acting leader of _Nami _for the time being. I expect that you're rather keen to know just what is going on," she continued, "to say nothing of why several pieces of you are not currently being interred in your family mausoleum back in Konoha. I am here in my official capacities to explain exactly what is going on." She sent me another tight smile, and I found myself somewhat amazed that this blatantly civilian woman felt not the slightest hint of fear towards me.

I grunted an inarticulate mono-syllabic response. Undaunted, Reiko uncrossed and then re-crossed her legs.

"As you may recall, you were attacked by a Konoha _oi-nin_ five days ago-"

_Aha! A definitive time,_ I thought, though I was well aware that just because she said that didn't necessarily make it true.

"-and you were moderately injured, sustaining wounds to your collarbone, left arm, ribs, and face, to be brief." She favoured me with a condescending smirk. "You were overcome, of course, but before a kiling blow could be struck, one of the resident ex-ninja, a Fuefuke Tayuya, used a secret technique to immobilize your oppenent before restraining him." The smile took on a more unpleasant cast. "I really have to thank you, you know."

_Well, now _that's_ interesting._ I cocked an eyebrow as though in query, and Reiko was only to happy to answer the unspoken question.

"Your fight with the hunter caused a massive amount of damage to a small section of my city," she explained, "damage that would cost hundreds of thousands of _ryou_ to repair. Normally, one might expect me to be somewhat upset with you." I shrugged, acknowledging the point. "But here's the rub," she crowed. "Konoha didn't tell us about the Hunter-nin's mission, breaching their own statutes."

I knew immediately where this was going. "So you're blackmailing them by holding the breach over their heads," I interrupted, annoyed at the audacity of the woman. Greed is such a disgusting trait, and this woman wouldn't pass up any opportunity for 'just one more _ryou_'.

"So you _can_ speak! Wonderful." I must have been glaring at her, because she chuckled. "Don't look at me with such angry eyes, Uchiha. Yes, I'm exploiting the situation for my own benefit. But I'm just nibbling at the side dishes; the main course is yours to enjoy all by yourself."

I _hate_ it when people use analogies instead of just coming out and saying what they mean, and I said so in no uncertain terms. The woman (whom I was rapidly beginning to dislike) bared her teeth in a very unpleasant grin.

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked rhetorically. "As a legal citizen of Wave, you're entitled to the benefits of the law, one of which is protection from outside elements. With Konoha's subterfuge clearly exposed, you're untouchable." She buffed her nails imperiously. "Practically speaking, you're immune to Konoha – you're _untouchable_. If anything, shall we say 'suspicious', happens to you, then I'm more than willing to cut off all ties with Fire Country."

Surprised, I looked up at her. The question of 'why' was clearly written all over my face, because the grey-haired woman answered it without my saying a word.

"You see, dear, dear boy," Reiko said, leaning forward, "it's because of you that I _can_ afford to do such a thing! The million _ryou_ I spoke of earlier was a mere drop in the bucket, as it were – reparations from such a wealthy country as Konoha for such a grievous wrong will be…significant." She shuddered in ecstasy at the thought.

"Careful," I said dryly, "your venal nature is showing." An angry flush crossed the bridge of her nose, creeping into her cheeks.

"Oh, what do you care?" the older woman snapped. "It's certainly a fair trade-off for the protection of Wave Country, isn't it? You're a _nuke-nin_ – this vestigial loyalty you seem to be burdened with seem somewhat curious."

My lips tightened in annoyance; damn, but she was good! I shouldn't care…at least, not by any observer's standards. _Nukenin_ did not, for the most part, harbour any kind of positive feelings toward their country of origin, and any appearance of such would be a curiosity bordering on the absurd.

"Perhaps I have something approaching morals," I responded flatly, although that was a lie.

"Please," she snorted, crossing and recrossing her legs as she fiddled with her spectacles in a manner I found uncomfortably reminiscent of Yakushi Kabuto, "Don't insult my intelligence." _Shall I insult your looks, then? _I wondered peevishly, _or perhaps your breeding, personal hygiene, or probable sexual preferences?_

"You're 'Clan-Killer Itachi'," she continued. "'Morals'," she said mockingly. "I'm surprised you even know the word." Rising gracefully to her feet, she favoured me with an upturned nose. "Get well quickly," Reiko growled perfunctorily before spinning on her heel and striding from the room.

I released a breath that I hadn't even known I was holding and fell back into my pillows. _What a cunt_, I thought.

* * *

_Clap…clap…clap_. Hands came together thrice in a formal manner. Rice and _saké _were offered to an unfeeling spire of stone, along with a heartfelt prayer that the gifts would be accepted.

There was silence for an agonizing stretch of time.

"Hey, mom. I miss you." No response from the cold rock, but then, none was expected. "Things have been pretty rough for me as of late." A laugh. "I can almost hear you telling me to suck it up and be a man, just like you did when you were alive. God, I couldn't stand you."

Silence.

"But then," the owner allowed, "I was never the easiest person to get along with. I know that, now. I just wish I could have told you that while you were still alive." Sigh. "You always knew what to do; whether that meant giving me a hug or kicking my ass, you knew. It must have been hard for you, huh?"

"Would you be proud of me, mom? Or would you be disappointed? I get to do all the things I wanted to do. I did it, mom; I got strong, I really did. People know me." Another laugh, this one far more genuine. "Would you believe that people are actually _scared_ of your 'Kamako' now? I'm serious – people actually run in terror when they see me. Bet you'd get a laugh out of that – your 'delicate little boy' grew up to be a bad-ass."

Wind plucked a few protesting leaves from the branches, and they gently fell to the dirt below.

"But things aren't going too well right now," he admitted. "Lost some good friends. The best, actually, and that always hits you hard. I just don't know what to do sometimes. But I've got goals, mom; they'll get me through to tomorrow. Always have, always will. And they're good goals, too; you'd approve. At least, I think you would." Quiet. "No, you'd be thrilled, actually."

Another period of silence. "Gods, I miss you mom. I know you always got on me about blaspheming and crap like that, but I don't know any other way to say it."

"Hey." Another voice whispered. "I don't like to interrupt, but we must get going."

"Sorry I haven't spent more time with you, mom, and I know it's not fair now, but I have to leave. I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise." With that, the _saké _was poured over the plain stone, and the dutiful son rose to his feet, taking his weapon with him.

_**Author's Note: **__Sorry about the delay – bad case of writer's block. Blame my sister and her stupid wedding._


	30. Interlude: An Expository Dialogue

_**Author's Note: **Because I keep on getting cries of 'that's not realistic' regarding the situation between Nami and Konoha now, I give to you a dialogue between myself and a reviewer known as RakeeshJ4, explaining my take on things, hoping that this will silence the naysayers, or at the very least assuage their greatest criticisms._

**RakeeshJ4's comments will be written in BOLD  
**

_My comments will be italicised_

_**Rakeesh quoting me**_

_Me quoting Rakeesh  
_

**Welcome back:) Hope your little international trip was fun?**

**My only complaint about this chapter is that the whole business of Konoha being at the political and diplomatic mercy of Wave country doesn't really make sense, well, politically or diplomatically. To make a very broad strokes only somewhat accurate comparison, if the United States got word that Osama bin Laden was hiding out in a city in Canada, and the USA was concerned ObL would flee given enough time...well, we might just go and get him, and if we did?**

**Well, Canada certainly wouldn't demand millions of dollars from us and a host of concessions. Especially not after US military personnel saving Canada from its own weakness and thwarting Gato, to continue the comparison. They might be pissed...but extortion? Who else exactly are they going to turn to? **

**Anyway, that's my criticism. As usual though the dialogue is both entertaining and riveting. Thanks for sharing!:)**

**

* * *

**_Ah, but we're not talking about modern superpowers and modern considerations here; we're talking about what is essentially a feudal 'port city', a significant percentage of trade and economy to a warcity/state, the powers_

_that direct it, and the very REAL question of an economy that is BUILT upon image, an image that has just foolishly been self-tarnished. It's crude diplomacy, very similar to that of Japan and Portugal circa 1580, but still_

_viable._

_Real-world comparisons to the United States and Canada don't apply - apples to oranges and whatnot. Good thinking behind your criticism, though - always nice to see someone willing to speak their mind. Thanks for the review._

_

* * *

_**You certainly know your way around a historical political-economic comparison;) In my defense, I *did* acknowledge that the comparison was hardly appropriate. There never are really solid fits for these sorts of things. Analogy always being suspect, as the saying goes.**

_**"we're talking about what is essentially a feudal 'port city', a significant percentage of trade and economy to a warcity/state, the powers that direct it, and the very REAL question of an economy that is BUILT upon image, an image that has just foolishly been self-tarnished. It's crude diplomacy, very similar to that of Japan and Portugal circa 1580, but still viable."**_

**I'm certainly not denying that Wave could hold Konoha over a barrel for this. Obviously they could-a substantial diplomatic wrongdoing* has taken place. I only question the plausibility of them being so bluntly venal, as Itachi notes, about it. After all, Wave (in my understanding of the shinobi world, and yours may very well be different- it's a gray area, after all - Wave is going to be controlled by *someone*. Where are their other options? Their only real other option would be Water Country. Again it's a gray area, but from what little we've seen and heard I'd much rather have an alliance with Fire than with Water. Much, *much* rather. So while Konoha can't afford to antagonize their neighbor Wave on a whim, nor is Wave in a position to behave as though it's got a host of options either.**

**As for your example of Portugal and Japan, the trouble it seems to me is that you've placed Konoha in the position of Portugal, and Japan in the position of Wave. That doesn't really match up. *It also seems implausible to me that nation-states in the Naruto world would have to have extensive diplomatic warning for these kinds of things. I mean, a super-mega-badass like Uchiha Itachi? He's the kind of guy that could very well escape even if the entire deck was stacked in the ambusher's favor. Why would Konoha - or any shinobi nation-state - agree to extensive notification beforehand in special cases like that?**

**

* * *

**_You've got it a bit backwards, I'm afraid - the ruling powers between the two (Japan) is DEFINITELY Konoha, and Wave is Portugal. During the sixteenth century, Japan (xenophobic though it was) essentially gave Nagasaki over to the Portuguese and allowed their Jesuit priests relatively free reign to proselytize, and this was solely due to the fact that the Portuguese priests, who were highly educated, were the only ones with whom the Chinese would trade their much-desired silks with, making them middle-men, yes, but INTEGRAL middle-men. As a country built upon the economy of war, do you REALLY think that Konoha would trade directly with Iwa? Or Even Kumo? I don't think so. And so Wave falls into the role of Portugal quite naturally. Though Wave is held as a Protectorate of Fire Country, and it is Konoha that outstrips them by far militarily, Wave, having a rather sordid past with people trying to take over, is a bit paranoid and essentially forced Konoha into agreeing to a set of demands whereby they were required to notify Wave's local government of any imminent operations. This was so if something untoward occurred, Wave would be able to cry for help from the most powerful military power, safe in the knowledge that their 'bodyguard' had A: Nothing to do with it and B: would set things right._

_This, as you can read, did not occur. Great questions, by the bye!_

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_**Hey, I've read Shogun too;)**

**I don't think Wave is in a position to help Konoha trade with anyone except Water and maybe Lightning. I mean, just from plain geography. Furthermore, trade wouldn't go through the shinobi villages-surely it would go through the conventional governments of each country, yes? Anyway, I can see why you'd put Wave in the role of Portugal there. It does fit somewhat. Except that the problem is as you point out that theirs is a balanced relationship...on the surface. Wave needs Konoha, Konoha needs Wave...except the truth is, Wave needs Konoha a lot more than Konoha needs Wave. Just like Japan of the time needed Portugal a lot more than the other way around. Furthermore, none of those trade intricacies deal at all with the politics involved. Konoha could just as easily say that Wave was harboring* Uchiha Itachi, making the situation a hell of a lot uglier and nastier...especially since it's true, isn't it? If Wave is the trade outlet for Fire Country (not a notion I think is plausible, but hey, your story after all), then yes, Wave does have a good deal of power in any dealings with Fire Country. But there's a *reason* it needs to take a protector over its shoulder. Who else will Wave go to, for an equally good or even better trade deal? Who else would treat with them as faithfully as Fire Country? Again, I ask...Water? Lightning? As to the military agreement...well, it's a bit of a stretch that the 'any' would be part of such an agreement, especially with Konoha. And *especially* when Wave is actually harboring Uchiha Itachi. Notify the local government?**

**Local governments everywhere are a sieve. Surely provisions would be made somewhere for super-villains, or their equivalents in people like Uchiha Itachi.**

**Anyway, it's not that I'm trying to get you to change your story. That would be both presumptuous and silly! I'm just pointing out the one thing that most detracts from my enjoyment, as it pulls me out of my suspension of disbelief. And even then, it's not much of a detraction.**

**Oh, I will offer this one other bit of review/criticism, take it or leave it of course:) It seems very unlikely to me that Konoha would remain ignorant forever that Wave *was* in fact harboring Uchiha Itachi, that they knew he was there and didn't tell their close friend Konoha about it. What would happen to Wave's venal governing power then?**

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**_Well spoken, and I take your comments under advisement, but you seem to have overlooked a rather key phrase, this being the term 'port city'. Let me explain my position: Wave sits on an island, connected to the mainland only by the Great Naruto Bridge. In my mind, and indeed in the context of my fic, Wave is hardly going to be content to trade only with the five Great Villages. After all, it doesn't really make sense to limit one's trade to a handful of opposing powers, not to mention doing so is extremely dangerous. We know from canon that there are dozens, maybe even hundreds of other villages out there, and that's just speaking of the Hidden Villages, to say nothing of the average farmer/peon/tradesman element. The Elemental Countries are just that - COUNTRIES. It seems to me to be a safe assumption that they don't comprise the entirety of the Naruto world._

_So what else is out there? Well, I imagine that if (and I'm understating this for simplicity and the fact that nothing else has been revealed as of yet by Bakamoto) the elemental countries comprise the whole of an area similar in scale and size to Japan, that still leaves a vast majority of the Narutoverse world unexplored. Drawing, therefore, on the analogy of Japan and Portugal that I've previously mentioned, would it not make sense that other countries in other continents would also have a vested interest in the well-being of Wave, ie, ChinaWhole Bloody World? You see, there are clear evidences of technology scattered about the Narutoverse: power lines, transformers, and televisions, and yet there aren't the necessary indications of their precursors, or even remnants of the same to be seen, and history (as well as common sense) tells us that a thing cannot just 'come into being' wholly formed - it must be built upon something. Yet nothing remains as the aforementioned building blocks. Why? I like to think that this is foreign technology, technology that Gato or other unknown shipping corporations brought to the Elemental countries from elsewhere, and with Gato out of the picture and his image (along with his life) extinguished, Wave would be in a perfect position to take over those operations. Read: Massive cash influx, and a GREAT dependency on those services that they now provide, as they, being a port city, have access to shipping lanes that other, similar import companies would not dream of. Why do you think Gato was so keen to impoverish Wave? Was it because he was a petty little bastard? Or was it because Wave occupied prime location for his business, and he wanted to force them to sell at the absolute lowest possible price for maximum profit?_

_As for 'harbouring' Itachi, yes. Konoha COULD make that case, logically speaking, but what good would it do with at the expense of the import theory I've outlined above? Now that Wave is operating in such a capacity, it and its citizenry are somewhat immune to such tactics. Konoha nor any other country can currently afford to alienate such an important influx of capital and goods. Add to the fact that Wave is currently within the jurisdiction of the Fire Daimyo, and therefore must hold to the same laws. Remember, had Konoha approached Nami before the debacle, they would have had little difficulty in obtaining their cooperation, but as Konoha has essentially made the first hostile move, Wave now takes on the role of the victim. Most people in Wave were aware that 'Imura Tacchi' was a ninja at one time, but I doubt many others aside from Tayuya, a former Oto Elite, was truly aware of just WHO he was, and that only just before the attack on 'Imura'. So Wave has the defense of plausible deniability as to Itachi, and is playing it up for all its worth._

_Reiko, the head jurist of Wave, is a bitch, but she's a savvy bitch._

_Oh, and as for your 'government as sieve' theory? Modern governments, definitely, but if the Suna Daimyo can effectively cripple his ninja village to such an extent that the ONLY WAY OUT viable to the Sand Kazekage is to eliminate the competition...well, it speaks of a governing power that is far more effective and ruthless than current world affairs afford. You are my absolute favourite reviewer! I LOVE having intelligent conversation, and being able to unearth my rationale behind the actions without sticking it in mid-plot (an ego-stroking move if ever there was) is a true joy._

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_**All that flattery at the end of your last reply makes me wonder if you're gonna ask me for money next. Thankfully for my ego, though, I realized I have no Euros and so it must've been sincere.;) Thanks! Certainly it makes sense that Wave would not be content (and truthfully *couldn't be* content) with trade only with the five major nations. Trade just doesn't work like that, really. You trade where the best deals are and if you don't, someone else does, and soon you're on your heels in the contests of trade.**

**In fact, if you're saying that in your world, Wave Country is the premiere outlet for all of that foreign technology (to make it easier I'll just say 'modern technology'), well then Wave's assumption of a powerful, greedy stance with Konoha makes a *bit* more sense. But even then there are problems. If Wave Country is so valuable, why would Konoha not have snapped them up long ago? They're a tiny, non-shinobi nation right next to them. As though Florida were a separate nation from the United States for example, in geographic terms. Currently in your world, they're protected to an extent by the vested interest other nations in the region have in them. That explains, somewhat, why Konoha doesn't own them *now*. It doesn't explain why Konoha didn't simply annex them or make them a vassal state years and years ago.**

**However, if Wave is the main (or indeed the only) substantial importer of modern technology into the shinobi world, these problems become less troublesome from a plausibility standpoint, IMO. And of course I don't forget that even though I'm speaking kinda authoritatively here, it is after all only my opinion. (Forgive my frequent reiterations of that; one thing that has always irritated me is pushy reviewers, so I try and make sure I don't sound like one. Even if I am, heh)**

**Unfortunately the problem with analyzing Gato's intentions is that, from what we saw of him...well, he WAS just an incredibly greedy, petty, evil bastard.**

_**"As for 'harbouring' Itachi, yes. Konoha COULD make that case, logically speaking, but what good would it do with at the expense of the import theory I've outlined above? Now that Wave is operating in such a capacity, it and its citizenry are somewhat immune to such tactics. Konoha nor any other country can currently afford to alienate such an important influx of capital and goods. Add to the fact that Wave is currently within the jurisdiction of the Fire Daimyo, and therefore must hold to the same laws. Remember, had Konoha approached Nami before the debacle, they would have had little difficulty in obtaining their cooperation, but as Konoha has essentially made the first hostile move, Wave now takes on the role of the victim. Most people in Wave were aware that 'Imura Tacchi' was a ninja at one time, but I doubt many others aside from Tayuya, a former Oto Elite, was truly aware of just WHO he was, and that only just before the attack on 'Imura'. So Wave has the defense of plausible deniability as to Itachi, and is playing it up for all its worth."**_

**The trouble here is that if Tayuya is in fact in a position of authority (whatever sort of authority that might be) it's a big stretch to imagine she didn't tell her superiors just who the new guy was. In fact, that would have to be some sort of job someone in Wave country has. 'Sanctuary for all' is all well and good, but anonymity? Even from the people providing the sanctuary? That's a stretch indeed.**

**Another difficulty is that for Reiko, her blunt and greedy position thrusts her into danger of dealing with the 'diplomacy of the knife' (I love that phrase). Wouldn't someone as savvy as her be at least a bit concerned of so nakedly thumbing her nose at the leader of a community of assassins that are right next door? Reiko could be done away with relatively easily, I imagine; her successor would probably be less intractable. **

_**"Oh, and as for your 'government as sieve' theory? Modern governments, definitely, but if the Suna Daimyo can effectively cripple his ninja village to such an extent that the ONLY WAY OUT viable to the Sand Kazekage is to eliminate the competition...well, it speaks of a governing power that is far more effective and ruthless than current world affairs afford."**_

**It's not just a truism of modern governments, though. It's a truism of governments period. The more people know, the more people WILL know. Secrets are kept at a rate proportional to the square of the people who know them, as the saying goes. And anyway, Wind Country's daimyo's ability to strangle his shinobi village doesn't really have any bearing at all as to whether governments across the board can keep secrets if those secrets are sent through channels from government to government, does it? And of course there's also the problem that however effective Wind Daimyo's strangling was, it was still incredibly stupid to have done so. Ruthless? Yes. Inept? Definitely.**

**Anyhoo, all this is just food for thought. I feel the same way about *ahem* intelligent conversation on any sort of stories (I think we can flatter both of us on that score;)). It's a pleasure.**

**'Bakamoto'? *sigh* Another hater!:P**

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_'If Wave Country is so valuable, why would Konoha not have snapped them up long ago? They're a tiny, non-shinobi nation right next to them. As though Florida were a separate nation from the United States for example, in geographic terms. Currently in your world, they're protected to an extent by the vested interest other nations in the region have in them. That explains, somewhat, why Konoha doesn't own them *now*. It doesn't explain why Konoha didn't simply annex them or make them a vassal state years and years ago.'_

_Because, dear fellow, Wave WASN'T an important city previous to the Gato Takeover; it was just a small, though healthy fishing village. Gato wanted it because of the location, which would greatly assist his shipping business. Seriously, why the hell else would he want the place? An agricultural (should I even go so far as to call it a fishicultural? :]) state would hardly have enough intrinsic wealth to interest Gato. But Gato's death left a void, one that was filled by the members of Wave, and which has brought them tremendous good fortune. As for why Konoha hasn't completely annexed the place...partly it's because of its image, a point I've made clear before. But also because Konoha doesn't have the overwhelming manpower to control two places separated by such a distance. If Oto and Suna (one which was recently formed and the other severely weakened by their own Daimyo) felt that they could successfully conquer Konoha, it speaks to the fact that Konoha is the strongest village, but not overwhelmingly so...not without their god-like Yondaime Hokage. To occupy a country by force would spread them too thin._

_'The trouble here is that if Tayuya is in fact in a position of authority (whatever sort of authority that might be) it's a big stretch to imagine she didn't tell her superiors just who the new guy was. In fact, that would have to be some sort of job someone in Wave country has. 'Sanctuary for all' is all well and good, but anonymity? Even from the people providing the sanctuary? That's a stretch indeed.'_

_The counter to this is that Tayuya knew instantly that 'Imura' was a ninja, but she didn't know until just before the attack by Iruka that he was ITACHI. And as for anonymity for all...honestly, how else could Nami accept retired/missing-nin? No country would want their secrets known by anyone else, and Nami wouldn't want to KNOW that they had someone who HAD been a ninja. Wave takes the view of 'former ninja' to be 'self-taught' or 'unaffiliated'. Plausible deniability again._

_'Another difficulty is that for Reiko, her blunt and greedy position thrusts her into danger of dealing with the 'diplomacy of the knife' (I love that phrase). Wouldn't someone as savvy as her be at least a bit concerned of so nakedly thumbing her nose at the leader of a community of assassins that are right next door? Reiko could be done away with relatively easily, I imagine; her successor would probably be less intractable.'_

_Good catch, but information is life, and who's to say that Reiko doesn't have contingencies set up in the event of her death? I'll tell you this now - she's foolish at times, but she's NOT stupid._

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**"Because, dear fellow, Wave WASN'T an important city previous to the Gato Takeover; it was just a small, though healthy fishing village. Gato wanted it because of the location, which would greatly assist his shipping business. Seriously, why the hell else would he want the place? An agricultural (should I even go so far as to call it a fishicultural? :]) state would hardly have enough wealth to interest Gato."**_

**The trouble with this isn't really that it wasn't so vital before, but that it remained free after Gato was gone. But you address that in your next paragraph, so I'll reply specifically to that one.**

_**"But Gato's death left a void, one that was filled by the members of Wave, and which has brought them tremendous good fortune. As for why Konoha hasn't completely annexed the place...partly it's because of its image, a point I've made clear before. But also because Konoha doesn't have the overwhelming manpower to control two places separated by such a distance. If Oto and Suna (one which was recently formed and the other severely weakened by their own Daimyo) felt that they could successfully conquer Konoha, it speaks to the fact that Konoha is the strongest village, but not overwhelmingly so...not without their god-like Yondaime Hokage. To occupy a country by force would spread them too thin."**_

**Here's a substantial problem from my angle. Yes, Gato's death left a void. Yes, someone would have filled it...but why wasn't that someone, for instance, Tazuna himself? Or for that matter Konoha? I can see Konoha not simply annexing Wave Country, that makes perfect sense. But that wouldn't have been the only option. It's pretty implausible to me that, after Gato's defeat, Wave Country really, really liked Konoha. I mean, they named the foundation of their future economic power after one of Konoha's shinobi. Even after lying to them, Konoha shinobi risked their lives to save their country...and ultimately that is WHY they did it, to save their country. It's almost inconceivable to me that Konoha wouldn't have capitalized on that enormous goodwill and gratitude and take Wave firmly under its wing. The force necessary to that equation wouldn't have been supplied by Konoha at all, but rather all of the other greedy and less scrupulous neighbors. Most especially Water country.**

**I don't know what sort of role (if any) you have for Water Country in your story, and what sort of place it is in your story, but a country that raises its shinobi military by training them to kill their closest friends? *I* would wanna make sure I did everything I could to keep their boot firmly off my neck, wouldn't you? **

_**"The counter to this is that Tayuya knew instantly that 'Imura' was a ninja, but she didn't know until just before the attack by Iruka that he was ITACHI. And as for anonymity for all...honestly, how else could Nami accept retired/missing-nin? No country would want their secrets known by anyone else, and Nami wouldn't want to KNOW that they had someone who HAD been a ninja. Wave takes the view of 'former ninja' to be 'self-taught' or 'unaffiliated'. Plausible deniability again." **_

**Mmm...on a plausibility level (again, obviously IMO) this passes muster as plausible if only because Wave Country could conceivably force such a status quo on other nations, regardless of how transparent the lie is. Plausible deniability isn't a blank check to tell any old lie one wants, after all...but having a fat wallet does help.**

_**"Good catch, but information is life, and who's to say that Reiko doesn't have contingencies set up in the event of her death? I'll tell you this now - she's foolish at times, but she's NOT stupid."**_

**The trouble with this is really that if Reiko is that clever a politician and leader, how did Gato come to power in the first place? **_ **[Plot spoiler divined by RakeeshJ4 removed from this section] **_

__**The situations you're describing, the actions Wave is taking, they *are* plausible in and of themselves. But when the question is asked, "How did this status quo come to be?" cracks start showing, IMO.**

**Oh, and to offer something favorable for a change;), everything about Naruto in Cloud village rocks.**

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**_Tazuna? Lead Wave? Surely you jest! The man is an admitted drunkard whose sole skill seems to be his talents as an architect. I grow ever so tired of those fics that place him in positions of authority on the sole basis of being one of the four natives of Wave Country that we know the name of (one of which, Kaiza, happens to be deceased, and another, Inari [oddly enough, the name of a Fox-deity in Japanese Mythology...coincidence?], who is a child). What was Tazuna's character in the manga like? A surly, offensive, manipulative boozer. No, no, no, and again I say no! A fondness for cheap saké and an architect's eye do not a good leader make!_

_As to why Konoha didn't simply make them an official territory, the reasons are threefold:_

_Reason the First: DISTANCE. I don't particularly care about Bakamoto's geographical assumptions (or lack thereof), and I myself have played pretty fast and loose with the actualities presented in the sole published map of the elemental countries, but for the purposes of this fic, Wave is hardly just a "pop down to the chemist's and back in time for tea" kind of distance away. As I've stated in previous messages, Konoha is not so large as to be able to adequately police both Konoha proper and Wave itself. _

_Reason the Second: REALISM. "Oh, thank you for saving our country, now won't you please take it and do with it what you will, even though our sole experiences with you have been through three children and a single adult?" No country would voluntarily offer itself up as a lamb unto a lion in such a manner, especially one that has just successfully regained its own identity. Face this incontrovertible fact: Wave HIRED Konoha to do a job. Konoha did it, and a bit more, but what it boils down to is killing four (possibly six, if you take into account the so-called Demon Brothers) people and scaring a mob away, part of which was accomplished by the citizens themselves. No, allowing themselves to be absorbed into a country under contract for them is a rather obscene and unlikely scenario. Far more likely is preferential treatment towards Konoha in matters both mercantile and mercenary in nature. _

_Reason the Third: BECAUSE I SAID SO. *laughs* No, just kidding, I just had to add something to fulfill my 'threefold' declaration._

_'The trouble with this is really that if Reiko is that clever a politician and leader, how did Gato come to power in the first place? And if she came to power after Gato's demise...wouldn't Konoha, being right next door and certainly recognizing the economic and political power Wave wields, have spies neck-deep in Wave business?'_

_Remember: Previously, Wave was a FISHING VILLAGE. What was there to rule? Yes, she certainly could have the best fish and chips and the oldest scotch sent to her impressive hut, aged a lengthy 36 months...no, I think not. **[Plot spoiler divined by RakeeshJ4 removed] **You're too damned insightful for your own good._

_Now that the cracks in the dam that is my story are fairly well plugged by my authorial thumb (unless you have another riposte that I have not adequately explained to your satisfaction), I'm glad that you like the Kumo scenes._

_There are going to be a lot more scenes focusing on Naruto and Yugito._

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_**_P_lease pardon my repetition on this subject. It's just difficult to make sure inflection is carried through in an online text format, so I'm being redundant to avoid that: I'm just having an enjoyable nerdy discussion here. I'm not insisting that if you don't do things my way, your story is teh sUx0r5 or anything, or even that it's bad. There, now that I've disclaimered myself..**

_**"Tazuna? Lead Wave? Surely you jest! The man is an admitted drunkard whose sole skill seems to be his talents as an architect. I grow ever so tired of those fics that place him in positions of authority on the sole basis of being one of the four natives of Wave Country that we know the name of (one of which, Kaiza, happens to be deceased, and another, Inari [oddly enough, the name of a Fox-deity in Japanese Mythology...coincidence?], who is a child). What was Tazuna's character in the manga like? A surly, offensive, manipulative boozer. No, no, no, and again I say no! A fondness for cheap saké and an architect's eye do not a good leader make!" **_

**All definitely true. Tazuna as he was in canon would not make a good leader at all...though in point of fact some of the same criticisms could be made of Tsunade;) But she's a different case. Though he WAS able to somehow, incredibly, unite the people of Wave in building a bridge and directly attempting to thwart Gato, a guy so powerful and ruthless that he would publicly torture, mutilate, and then kill a hero of the country with impunity. There's gotta be SOME leadership potential there, right? And who knows, the drunkard aspect could've been because his bridge was falling apart and he had a death mark on his head? Anyway, I'm not advancing the idea, except to point out there would have to have been more to Tazuna than meets the eye. **

**As to Inari, I don't know if it's a common name in Japan at all, or it was intended as a little joke just for Naruto. *shrug***

_**"Reason the First: DISTANCE. I don't particularly care about Bakamoto's geographical assumptions (or lack thereof), and I myself have played pretty fast and loose with the actualities presented in the sole published map of the elemental countries, but for the purposes of this fic, Wave is hardly just a "pop down to the chemist's and back in time for tea" kind of distance away. As I've stated in previous messages, Konoha is not so large as to be able to adequately police both Konoha proper and Wave itself."**_

**Heh, can they really be geographic 'assumptions'? Does 'Bakamoto' even get to design his own canon's geography?:p I mean, it's not as though we were ever given a scale for the map. But anyway, if you're saying that the canon map is thrown out, that does address some of my criticisms. **

**However, who's to say Konoha would need to 'police' Wave? That's not even entirely the case if Wave were made a vassal or satellite state. Look at the Warsaw Pact and NATO during the Cold War. Obviously, the real military power on both sides was the United States and Russia, but you didn't have Soviet or American troops protecting the borders and maintaining order in their satellite states (unless the shit really hit the fan, and unless we're counting bases) If Wave was exceedingly friendly, which seems so plausible as to be outright likely to me, then Konoha would not need much force at all to actually dominate Wave.**

_**"Reason the Second: REALISM. "Oh, thank you for saving our country, now won't you please take it and do with it what you will, even though our sole experiences with you have been through three children and a single adult?" No country would voluntarily offer itself up as a lamb unto a lion in such a manner, especially one that has just successfully regained its own identity. Face this incontrovertible fact: Wave HIRED Konoha to do a job. Konoha did it, and a bit more, but what it boils down to is killing four (possibly six, if you take into account the so-called Demon Brothers) people and scaring a mob away, part of which was accomplished by the citizens themselves. No, allowing themselves to be absorbed into a country under contract for them is a rather obscene and unlikely scenario. Far more likely is preferential treatment towards Konoha in matters both mercantile and mercenary in nature."**_

**I certainly agree that for Wave to just sign away its sovereignty would be so implausible as to be just stupid...but that's not quite what I was talking about, either. I would think that preferential treatment in economic and military matters would be the least of the special relationship established, because the reality of Konoha's involvement in Wave affairs was a bit different from what you're describing. Wave hired Konoha to do a job which did not, in fact, exist. They hired Konoha to do one job when the reality was quite a lot more dangerous, and nearly killed all of them on multiple occasions. Owing Wave nothing, and in fact with healthy reason to be antagonistic towards them, Konoha (because, just my personal spin on canon here, I think it's unlikely in the extreme that Kakashi would have had command authority over the sort of decision that flings the last Uchiha AND the Kyuubi jinchuuriki into that sort of danger on his own, and so he must've had some contact with his commander) decides just because it's the right thing to do to help save Wave country. Even the civilian participation in thwarting the mob would've been completely impossible without Konoha involvement, and not just because the civilian anti-mob mob would've been worthless if Konoha hadn't dealt with Gato&Co in the first place.**

_**"Remember: Previously, Wave was a FISHING VILLAGE. What was there to rule? Yes, she certainly could have the best fish and chips and the oldest scotch sent to her impressive hut, aged a lengthy 36 months...no, I think not. **__ **[Plot spoiler brought up by RakeeshJ4 removed] You're too damned insightful for your own good."**_

**Heh, I'm not sure if you're saying, "I'm not going into that much detail and don't plan to," or, "I'm not going into that much detail YET.";) Either way as you say it's your story:)**

**Very much looking forward to more nine&two interaction:)

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**_Oh, no no no. You've no need to disclaimer yourself - whether or not you like the story is not the purpose of this dialogue. That you seem to is just gravy; the nerdy dialogue is definitely my idea of a real intellectual meal._

_PERSONAL EXPOSITION ALERT: You see, I'm a rather contrary person by nature, and I argue for the sheer sake of argument. That particular skill, lamentably, has fallen into disuse or even outright abuse in modern society, so being able to sit down and have an (admittedly stop-and-start abbreviated) intellectual convo. of this degree is a welcome change from the boring humdrum norm. END EXPOSITION._

_You make some interesting points regarding Tazuna, ones that I, to my authorial detriment, had not considered, but which seem not only plausible but even LIKELY in retrospect. A point I would like to re-emphasize, however, is Tazuna's background AS a drunkard. Yes, you've given brilliant reasoning behind it, but a leader who falls into such a state after a tragedy, finding respite only in the bottom of a bottle, certainly shouldn't hold an office where the well-being of an entire city-state might be jeopardized. If he did it once for a single (although personal) tragedy, what will a financial crisis do to him? Agricultural? Natural disaster? Certainly he isn't as feeble as I originally thought, but a lack of weakness does not necessarily imply a presence of strength._

_For the record, Inari is a very UN-common name, as are Naruto, Minato, Tsunade, Orochimaru, and Jiraiya. In fact, Inari is the name of a fox-deity as previously mentioned, and the Densetsu no Sannin are taken from a book of classic literature regarding a princess, a snake-demon, and a valiant warrior. There are tonnes of jokes and inside references within the scope of the Narutoverse._

_Excellent riposte regarding NATO and the Warsaw Pact. At such a salvo, I can only invoke authorial privilege and claim substantial differences in policy and politics between the two worlds. I thereby concede one point to you in forcing me to take shelter beneath such a nebulous armour. As for the issue of sovereignty, I suppose that what it really comes down to is personal opinion. I happen to think that a country so impoverished by one foreign source would become somewhat jittery at the prospect of being under another's control, regardless of the fact that it was the exemplary and unanticipated service of that country's forces that allowed the initial freedom. From what I gather of your viewpoint, you feel that Wave's response would be to clamour for Konoha's mantle of protection, and I feel that I should have assuaged the both of us with Wave becoming a Protectorate._

_In my opinion, it seems that although logical to seek shelter beneath the cloak of a stronger entity, Wave's viability as a neutral port would be severely compromised were they to become an outright vassal of Konoha. Think of their current arrangement as a loose, verbal alliance._

_You wouldn't happen to be able to send all previous messages that I've sent to you back, would you? I usually CC to myself, but I've been so enamoured and engaged by your arguments that I've quite forgotten. Being somewhat manic myself with regards to language and argument, I soothe the crusty bit of flint that passes for my soul by re-reading past debates that I find to be of informative and excellent quality._

_You, sir/madam/Richard Simmons, have quite easily propelled yourself onto just such a list, and I commend you for it._

_*points and grins* Your turn.

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_**Good grief, I can't possibly keep up with your flattery-fu. I'll just have to cede that particular contest and say you're a fun and engaging fellow to talk to, and I'll bet you're a spiffy guy IRL, heh.**

_**"PERSONAL EXPOSITION ALERT: You see, I'm a rather contrary person by nature, and I argue for the sheer sake of argument. That particular skill, lamentably, has fallen into disuse or even outright abuse in modern society, so being able to sit down and have an (admittedly stop-and-start abbreviated) intellectual convo. of this degree is a welcome change from the boring humdrum norm. END EXPOSITION."**_

**I'm not so presumptuous:p For myself, I just dig arguing and conversations about historical fiction and whatnot.**

_**"You make some interesting points regarding Tazuna, ones that I, to my authorial detriment, had not considered, but which seem not only plausible but even LIKELY in retrospect. A point I would like to re-emphasize, however, is Tazuna's background AS a drunkard. Yes, you've given brilliant reasoning behind it, but a leader who falls into such a state after a tragedy, finding respite only in the bottom of a bottle, certainly shouldn't hold an office where the well-being of an entire city-state might be jeopardized. If he did it once for a single (although personal) tragedy, what will a financial crisis do to him? Agricultural? Natural disaster? Certainly he isn't as feeble as I originally thought, but a lack of weakness does not necessarily imply a presence of strength."**_

**In response to this I give you...Winston Churchill! And Ulysses Grant, for that matter. The latter especially is not an example of stellar political leadership, but still should I hope serve as warning that absolute statements involving human affairs can be hazardous to accuracy?;) Anyway, Tazuna certainly appeared to be a drunkard...but here's another thing to consider: he still got his job done, despite shall we say as understatement unfavorable conditions? Imagine what he'd be like sober! Just a thought.**

_**"For the record, Inari is a very UN-common name, as are Naruto, Minato, Tsunade, Orochimaru, and Jiraiya. In fact, Inari is the name of a fox-deity as previously mentioned, and the Densetsu no Sannin are taken from a book of classic literature regarding a princess, a snake-demon, and a valiant warrior. There are tonnes of jokes and inside references within the scope of the Narutoverse."**_

**Oh, I'm familiar with those other names and their history, just not Inari is all.**

_**"Excellent riposte regarding NATO and the Warsaw Pact. At such a salvo, I can only invoke authorial privilege and claim substantial differences in policy and politics between the two worlds. I thereby concede one point to you in forcing me to take shelter beneath such a nebulous armour."**_

**VICTORY! Tonight I drink from the keg of glory. Fetch me the finest coffee and bagels in all the land!**

**;)**

_**"In my opinion, it seems that although logical to seek shelter beneath the cloak of a stronger entity, Wave's viability as a neutral port would be severely compromised were they to become an outright vassal of Konoha. Think of their current arrangement as a loose, verbal alliance."**_

**Well, if their viability is tied to their neutrality, that's one thing. However, I'd gathered from some of your previous messages that it was as much location and trade contracts 'inherited' shall we say from Gato?**

_There was little editing done by me with regards to content, although you will note that _**RakeeshJ4**_ brought up an issue that I had not yet touched upon, the clever little bastard that he is, and I have deleted it and made note that I did so. Email addresses were removed, as well as any reference to proper (real) names. Hopefully, this helps the casual and not-so-casual reader in understanding my viewpoint._


	31. Chapter 3: ThroughThrusting Fire

**Chapter III**

_**Author's Note:**__ Yeah, I know it's been a while since I last updated. Life, an atomised home-made motherboard, a faulty back-up hard disc, and a newly-minted fiancée(boo-fuckin'-ya! I'm engaged!) have all taken their toll on my free time, to say nothing of work and the two novels I'm currently writing._

_Oh, well. Hopefully, this will catapult me back into this fanfic.

* * *

_

"Whaddya mean, a 'joint mission'?" Naruto asked, idly scratching his cheek. His fingertips rasped over the slightest hint of stubble. Secretly pleased at this (embarrassingly delayed) step into manhood, he nevertheless levied a frown at the Raikage. "Isn't there some sort of law against official missions alongside non-allied villages?"

"Not necessarily," Yugito said from the wall against which she leaned casually, answering for her leader. "I'm sure if it ever really happened, it'd be frowned upon, but it's such a rare occurrence that nobody's ever taken the time to write out a legal document opposing it." A pale yellow eyebrow arched as she regarded the dark-skinned Kage. "It brings up an interesting point though, Raikage-sama…why?"

The Raikage rose from his chair and ran his fingers along the desktop as he did so. Looking at his brother, Kirabi, who was standing in a darkened corner and bobbing his head to a beat that only he could hear, the only non-_Jinchuuriki_ in the room gracefully slid a piece of paper from a pile and flicked it through the air towards his female subordinate, imbuing it with just enough _chakra_ to cause it to fly straight.

Yugito snatched it out of the air casually and examined it quickly. "It's the mission contract," she pointed out unnecessarily.

"Yes," the Raikage said. "Now look at it and tell me who the client is."

Surprising all of the Kumo _shinobi_ in the room, Naruto's hazarded guess was correct. "It's from _Ame_, isn't it?" Seeing the shocked looks on the others, Naruto pouted. "Hey, I'm not a super-genius or nothing, but I'm not stupid!"

"Do you have a note to that effect?" Yugito teased, smirking at her fellow blonde's extended tongue, which was his response to the jab. "Put that thing away unless you're going to use it." As the Konoha ninja choked, she looked back down at the paper.

"A solo A-Class mission, ostensibly from a private citizen in Rain Country, for the assassination of a rival and information retrieval," she read aloud. "Payment up front…hmm, this is unusual. It's asking for me by reputation. 'Kumo's Ghost'…" she snorted. Glaring at Kirabi in irritation (as he had started to beat-box a little), she shrugged her shoulders. "Frankly, sir, I don't see any real cause for excessive caution about it. It's a trifle unusual, yes, but not suspicious."

"I don't buy it; Rain's been too quiet recently, don't you see?" Kirabi explained. "Now they're back to the norm, but this don't fit their form; I don't wanna scoff, but they cut themselves completely off, and suddenly now it's back to usual business? Seems to be awfully suspicious."

"You think this is a ploy by Akatsuki to lure Yugito-chan out of Kumo?" Naruto asked, narrowing his eyes as the Raikage's brother nodded his dreadlocked head. "Bastards." Turning back to the village leader, Jiraiya's apprentice crossed his arms. "You're going to turn it down, right?"

"No; I'll accept this mission-"

"_What!?_"

"-but I don't have any intention of letting Yugito fall into a trap," the Raikage finished as if he'd never been interrupted.

"Why not just decline the mission?" Naruto asked.

"Because if we do, then Akatsuki will attack the village," the Raikage explained. "If we get defensive, then Akatsuki will become _offensive_. But if we play their game, or at least pretend to, then they won't take any unusual steps. Besides, I'm not letting Yugito take this alone." The aforementioned woman's eyes widened in appreciation as she understood.

"I see," Yugito said, smirking. "Instead of them pulling me into a trap, you're luring _them_ into one."

"I don't get it," Naruto complained, then yelped as Yugito pushed off of the wall and smacked the back of his head with an open palm.

"Moron," she chastised sharply. "The Akatsuki are only expecting one _Jinchuuriki_, with maybe an ANBU escort to the border. They sure as hell won't expect _three_ of them." Naruto nodded slowly.

"Akatsuki works in teams of two," the Raikage explained, garnering their attention. "Their ninja are pair-oriented; they engage a single target, divide its attention, flank it, and destroy it." Now the dark-skinned man smiled thinly. "They certainly won't expect to be flanked themselves."

"We'll be silent as stone and when they think they're alone…we rush 'em and crush 'em," Kirabi exclaimed, delighted at the scheme. The Raikage nodded at his brother and turned to Naruto.

"Uzumaki, I know that I haven't any right to ask you to participate. This situation has nothing to do with you. If you don't wish to assist, I won't hold it against-"

"I'm going, old man," Naruto interrupted, his face set in a determined frown. "I'd go even if you didn't want me to. I almost lost one friend to these bastards already; I'm not gonna lose anyone else."

"And are they your friends?" The Raikage pressed, a faint smile twitching the corners of his lips upward. Naruto turn his face towards Kirabi, who grinned and threw a thumbs-up, before switching his gaze to Yugito.

The blonde woman was taken aback by the sheer force of will she saw burning in his cerulean eyes. Determination, and something that she couldn't readily identify. The pit of her stomach tightened under his intense gaze and she shifted uncomfortably before nodding once sharply.

"Yeah," Naruto said, not breaking his gaze with the much older woman, "I think they are."

"Very well," Kirabi's brother acknowledged. "Here's the plan…"

* * *

"Madame Reiko, Lady Hokage Senjuu Tsunade of Konoha is here to speak with you," Hitsutoguro Reiko looked over the top of the profit statements she was examining, arching a thin, grey eyebrow at her personal assistant. The man was well into his eighties, soft-spoken, thin, but with a keen mind beneath a sparse head of hair.

Waving her hand, the leader of _Nami no Kuni_ indicated that the target of her blackmail scheme should enter. Before the old man had the chance to communicate this, though, he was pushed aside as the Hokage, flanked by a tall, slender man with blonde hair tied in a ponytail and a woman clad in a miniskirt and fishnet, her modesty (barely) preserved only by virtue of an open trench-coat.

Both were obviously ninja. Reiko was on her feet in an instant. "Your _shinobi _will have to wait outside, Lady Hokage," she said with poisoned courtesy. "Surely the rumours of your great strength are not so exaggerated as to necessitate their presence?"

To her credit, Tsunade didn't so much as blink at the barb, a trait shared by the blonde man to her left. The woman, though…Reiko felt a sudden prick of unease at the intense, insane ferocity that flashed in her purple eyes. _A wild dog,_ the grey-haired woman thought, _just waiting for someone to loosen her collar_. "Of course not," Tsunade said, her tone nothing but polite. "My ninja are simply overprotective of me. Such loyalty can't be bought with something as base as money, hmm?"

_First blood to you, you vain bitch_, the Head Jurist thought bitterly. "All the same, there is no need for them to enter our discussions," she said smoothly. "After all, it wouldn't do well for me to feel intimidated by such formidable ninja."

Tsunade shrugged. "True enough," she allowed far too easily, Reiko thought. "Inoichi, Anko. Wait outside. _Quietly_." The blonde man nodded as the woman bared her teeth in a fearsome scowl. With a soft _pop_ of displaced air, the two disappeared.

"Ah, some of your ninja magic, I take it," the head of _Nami_ said appreciatively, to which a single nod of the head was Tsunade's answer. "Most impressive. Now," she said, gesturing at a fine porcelain tea service, "would you care for something to drink? I have an excellent foreign tea, something called 'U-rongu', or saké, if your preferences happen to run in that direction." _Like long-distance sprinters, if half of what I've heard is true, you old drunk._

Tsunade shook her head. "No, thank you," she declined. "I feel that business should come first."

Reiko clucked her tongue disapprovingly, but secretly enjoyed the feeling of absolute power. "I suppose if we must. Would you care to sit down?"

"I'll stand, thank you." The civilian leader shrugged as if to say 'suit yourself', although she privately (and gleefully) thought that it would be better for the blonde pigtailed Hokage to be sitting when she issued her demands.

"Very well. To business, then." Reiko's face dropped the veneer of civility that she'd kept up, showing her true colours. "Here's how it's going to go. You're going to give me money, and you're going to give me a lot of it. In return, I'll keep my mouth shut about the whole sordid business to the Fire Lord, and maybe I'll throw up a fancy monument in tribute of Konoha's 'generosity'," she said crisply.

Tsunade's lips curved downward in a thin frown. "How much do you want?"

"Half a percent return on Wave's interests in Konoha kicked back directly to me, every year in perpetuity until I leave office…_of my own free will,_" she stated pointedly, clearly conveying that a hostile outing would result in breaking her silence.

Tsunade's eyes narrowed dangerously. "That's almost ten million _ryou _a year!" she hissed. Reiko smirked and took a sip of her tea, although she wasn't the slightest bit thirsty.

"I could demand more, if the mood so took me," the grey-haired woman pointed out. The large-breasted Hokage scowled fiercely.

"I'm sure you could," she said bitterly. Feeling triumphant, the leader of _Nami_ smiled coldly.

"That is, of course," Reiko stated sweetly, "the bulk of my demands." Ignoring the deepening frown on her opponent, she continued. "I also want all missions we contract out to you to have a cost reduction factor of one."

At this, Tsunade shot to her feet. "Impossible!" she bellowed. "Hiring my ninja out for missions and paying them a full grade less than what they're worth goes against every tenet of a military economy."

"Oh," Reiko said, feigning surprise, "I guess I'll just have to go to your Lord anyway. Such a pity." Her eyes hardened. "Do what I say, or I'll make sure that no-one from Wave ever has anything to do with Konoha, ever again."

"And this is your 'reasonable discussion', then, is it?" Tsunade growled.

"I'm just doing what's best…for me," The Provisional Head Jurist of _Nami_ smirked. "You would agree that those are rather fair terms, considering the potential consequences, wouldn't you?" Tsunade looked thoughtful for a moment.

"No, I really wouldn't."

Reiko gasped as she was suddenly slammed up against a wall, Tsunade's hand around her throat. She clawed desperately at the powerful fingers as they slowly began to tighten. Amber eyes burned into hers.

"You didn't really think you could threaten me, did you?" Tsunade said, giving a little squeeze. Reiko gurgled and kicked her feet impotently. In response, the blonde woman lifted her several inches further off the floor. "I may not know everything about being Hokage yet, but I know enough to find answers when I want them, and _you_, Hitsutoguro, are a civilian directly interfering in a military power's operations." Full lips twisted into a thin smile as Tsunade shook her head mockingly. "That is a very foolish thing to do."

"Fire _Daimyou_…hear…censure you…" the gray-haired woman choked out, as stars started to appear within her field of vision.

"Oh, no no no…" Tsunade said, grimly amused by the other woman's defiance, "you won't say a thing…because one way or another, I'm going to make sure that you _can't_." The grip loosened a bit, and the strangled woman gasped in a few breaths of air before the fist closed again.

"You have a rather large pair of balls, civilian, and I suppose that I should admire you for that," Tsunade allowed. "As such, I'm going to give you a little bit of incentive – I'll pay Wave two million _ryou_…for information regarding Itachi's current whereabouts. One million for repairs, one million for you use however you please."

Reiko struggled to pull the iron fingers away from her throat, although she knew it was impossible. "…more…" she croaked. "Not enough."

Tsunade laughed, a deep, full-belly laugh, amused that her grey-haired opponent thought that she was in any position to bargain. "'Not enough'?" she crowed. "That's the full extent of the carrot, idiot!" She abruptly pulled Reiko in close, their faces centimeters apart. "You really don't want to plumb the depths of the stick," she purred dangerously, her amber eyes glinting. "The blonde man you saw with me? He can rip the secrets right from your mind. It would, of course, leave you a total vegetable. The woman was trained by Orochimaru. Ah, I see you've heard of him. Well, Anko-chan is part of the torture and intelligence division," Tsunade whispered, almost seductively. "And she _loves _her job. She could have you screaming every single secret you know in an hour. You would _never_ recover from her 'ministrations'."

Tsunade shook Reiko again. "Do you understand just how powerless you are here? How utterly I could destroy you? If I felt like it, I could pop your head off of your neck with less effort than it would take you to pluck a ripe persimmon. But I'm old-fashioned, I guess; I prefer to deal before I start ripping off body parts. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

_She'll kill me,_ Reiko realized with rapidly-growing horror, _and she wouldn't feel the slightest bit of hesitation about doing so. _The grey-haired woman nodded, and she was suddenly flung against the couch, choking and gasping as the large-breasted Hokage towered over her. Scowling, she glared up at the other woman. "And what's to stop me from taking your money and going to the Fire Lord afterward?"

Tsunade's lips parted in a grin that showed far too many teeth to be anything but threatening. "Self-preservation. Because we'll know the instant you set foot outside the walls of your city. We'll intercept every piece of mail you send, no matter how secretly you hide it. We'll annihilate every courier you deal with, and then we will kill you in your inner sanctum, in the very place you consider yourself to be safest. No warning, not even a whisper of movement. You'll be alive one moment, and then, all of a sudden, you won't be. Maybe it'll look like a heart attack. Or it could be an accident. Might even be suicide. Or we could replace you with a double, and no-one would even notice." Tsunade's grin disappeared, replaced by a hard scowl. "You don't fuck with ninja, bitch, because we can fuck you, your friends, your family, and everyone you've even so much as said 'hello' to on the street. And we fuck _hard_."

A small leather packet was dropped at Reiko's feet, bundles of large-denomination _ryou _notes spilling out.

"I'm being exceedingly generous as it is. Now talk."

Reiko talked.

_**Author's Note: **Aaaand we're back!_


	32. Chapter X: I'm Not QUITE Back

Authors Note:

Wow. Long time, no write. I AM NOT ABANDONING THE STORY. Let me just get that out of the way. I've gone through several life changes over the past couple of years; marriage, a miscarriage, moving from one country to another, becoming a naturalized citizen of that country, job changes, amongst others.

I'm still here, though, and once things settle down a bit, I'll be working on Diary of a Madman again. I have several side projects going on at the moment, including writing music for two video games and a translation job for another (from Spanish to English), and there is of course the whole 'married' thing.

But I'm alive, and I haven't given up on this. I know EXACTLY where it's going. It's just a matter of finding the time. Just…be patient a little while longer, please?


End file.
